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THE GOLDEN CITY 



SHOWING THE UNEXPLORED COUNTRY 


THE 

GOLDEN CITY 

A Tale of Adventure in 
Unknown Guiana 

^ BY 

A. HYATT VERRILL 

„ *1 >> 

AUTHOR OF THE OCEAN, ETC. 



NEW YORK 

DUFFIELD & COMPANY 
1916 


Copyright, 1916, by 
Duffield & Company 


SEP -2 1916 

©CU4;i8218 

l , 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


“He telde me that the most of the golde which they 
made into moons plates and images was not recouerred 
from stone but that on the shore of the Lake of 
Manoa they gathered it in peeces of perfect golde as 
bigge as egges.” 

******** 

“Bye the Warimetona I hadde knowledge that on 
the heade of this riuer were 3 mighty nations which 
were seated on a greate Lake from whence this Riuer 
descendeth * * * * a nd that if wee entered the land 
through the mountains wee shoulde satisfie ourselves 
with golde and all other goode things.” 

Sir Walter Raleigh in his 

“Discoverie of Guiana.” 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


CHAPTER I 

In the depths of the vast Guiana forests two 
white men sat upon the spreading roots of a 
giant mora tree, while near them a young In- 
dian broiled a monkey over a fire. 

The one was a youth scarcely out of his 
teens ; the other a man of middle age, and the 
tattered garments and unkempt appearance 
of both spoke of long absence from civilisa- 
tion. 

Five weeks before they had set forth from 
Georgetown for a trip up the Essequibo and 
Rupinuni rivers, and now they were lost, 
— castaways in the pathless “bush” which 
stretched for countless miles, north, south and 
east from the Amazon to the sea. 

Frank Ellis, the younger of the two, had 

come to British Guiana in company with his 
l 


2 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


father, who had business to transact in the capi- 
tal. There he had met Andrews, of the Lands 
and Mines Department, and at the latter’s in- 
vitation had joined him on one of his official 
expeditions into the interior. 

It had been a wonderful trip. Frank had 
seen Indians by the score, he had learned to 
speak their queer “talky-talky” jargon, he had 
camped, fished and hunted to his heart’s con- 
tent; he had run rapids and portaged around 
cataracts until such things had become com- 
monplace; but through it all his boyish en- 
thusiasm had not deserted him; he had en- 
joyed every minute of the time and the perils 
he had passed through and the very grave dan- 
gers he now faced seemed but exciting and fas- 
cinating adventures to his youthful mind. 

How vividly it all came back to him. He 
could recall each detail, remember every little 
event of the trip, as if it were but yesterday, 
and yet how much had been crowded into those 
five weeks and how long ago it seemed since 
he had set forth from Georgetown. 

And now, while Joseph, the Arekuna In- 
dian, cooks their meagre meal, let us go back 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


3 


and review the events which led to Frank’s long 
journey and thrilling adventures in the un- 
known South American wilderness. 

One day Frank’s father had announced that 
he had met an old friend who had been all over 
Guiana and they had spent an evening with 
Mr. Andrews. He had shown Frank innum- 
erable pictures of the bush, of Indians, of the 
enormous Kaieteur Falls five times as high as 
Niagara, and of Mount Roraima, and in the 
meantime had related story after story of 
personal experiences in the jungle. He had 
brought forth his wonderful collection of In- 
dian arms and curios, — gorgeous feather 
crowns, strangely carved clubs, dance sticks 
and bead work, queyus or women’s aprons, 
rattles and necklaces of jaguar teeth and pec- 
cary tusks, bows and arrows, blow-guns and 
poisoned darts and countless other treasures. 
He told Frank how these were worn or used 
and donned some of them and pranced about 
the room imitating an Indian dancer, until 
Frank and his father roared with laughter. 
Then he had told tales of Indians’ ways and 
lives, how they hunted, fished, and made their 


4 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


homes, and had related anecdotes of his life 
among them. 

Then the conversation had turned to stories 
of the old discoverers and the legends of Manoa 
and El Dorado. 

“Some of the Bucks declare such a lake as 
Raleigh sought really exists in the unknown 
interior,” said Mr. Andrews. “But no one 
can confirm or deny it — there’s so much coun- 
try unexplored that one might discover almost 
anything.” 

“Do you mean that parts of British Guiana 
are really unknown?” cried Frank in surprise. 

“Certainly,” replied Mr. Andrews. “Com- 
paratively little is known of the country any- 
where, save along the coasts and rivers, and 
even these are often incorrectly mapped. The 
sources of two of our largest waterways, — the 
Demerara and Berbice rivers, — have never 
been discovered. In fact, there’s a district 
nearly one hundred miles square which no 
white man has ever penetrated.” 

Frank vowed he’d like nothing better than 
to penetrate this unknown area, and added, “It 
must be fine to do such work as yours and go to 


THE GOLDEN CITY 5 

all these places and see all these wonderful 
things.” 

Mr. Andrews had laughed. “There’s plenty 
of hard work as well as fun in it,” he declared. 
“It’s by no means easy to travel through the 
Guiana jungle, and there are countless dis- 
comforts and not a few perils to be met. 
Would you really like to take a trip into the 
bush?” 

“Would I!” cried Frank. “Nothing would 
suit me better, but father can’t give the time 
and of course I can’t go by myself.” 

“I think I can arrange it,” said Mr. An- 
drews. “I’m going into the interior in a 
couple of days and if your father doesn’t ob- 
ject I’ll be glad to have you go along. It 
will give you an idea of the country and will 
be a novel experience.” 

Mr. Ellis willingly gave his consent. “If 
he’s in your care, I’m sure he’ll be safe, An- 
drews,” he declared. “Frank’s been perfectly 
crazy to get into the bush ever since he’s been 
in the colony.” 

“You may not see as much as you expect,” 
Mr. Andrews cautioned him. “I don’t expect 


6 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


to go very far, — just up the Essequibo to the 
Rupinuni, — but you’ll see plenty of Indians, 
though all pretty tame, I expect. You’ll have 
a chance to visit the gold and diamond dig- 
gings, see balata gatherers at work, visit a 
greenheart grant, run rapids and camp in the 
bush, besides getting a shot or two at peccary, 
labba, deer, and perhaps a tiger, and of course 
you’ll find plenty of monkeys and powis, ma- 
rudis, and small game.” 

“Well, I think that’s enough to satisfy any 
boy,” laughed Frank; “but do, please, tell me 
what labba and powis and marudis are, and 
do you have tigers here?” 

“The animals we call tigers are jaguars,” 
explained the other. “Labbas are a sort of 
gigantic guinea pig, — paca, I believe, is the 
correct name, — and powis and marudis are big 
pheasant-like game birds. There’s an old say- 
ing that he who eats labba and drinks creek 
water will come back to Guiana to die, so if 
you don’t want to spend your last days in the 
colony you must avoid doing that.” 

“I guess I’ll take the risk,” declared Frank. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 7 

“Will we see any savannas or Mount Rorai- 
ma?” 

“Hardly said Mr. Andrews. “My work 
may take me to the edge of the savanna coun- 
try, but Roraima is nearly two hundred miles 
beyond the farthest point I expect to reach. I 
will try to find time to take you to Kaieteur 
Falls though — you really should see it. I plan 
to be away about a month, but time isn’t of 
much value in the bush, and if your father 
won’t worry, we may stay for three weeks or 
four weeks longer — one can do a lot of country 
in that time.” 

“Don’t hurry back on my account,” said 
Mr. Ellis. “I’ll not worry over Frank while 
he’s with you. What sort of an outfit will he 
need, Andrews ? You know all about the bush. 
Suppose you tell him what to get and let him 
make notes of it.” 

“Righto,” agreed the other. “But there’s 
not much required. Most of the travelling’s 
done by boat and canoe. You’ll need an iron 
box or cannister for your duds, — they’ll get 
soaked in anything else, — and good heavy 


8 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


boots. Old stout clothes, a few changes of 
undergarments, — woollen by all means, — plen- 
ty of socks, and that’s about all, except your 
toilet articles, handkerchiefs and any other odds 
and ends. I’ll lend you a hammock, — we’ll 
sleep in them every night, — you’ll want a pair 
of light woollen blankets, and then there’s the 
gun, a machete and ammunition, which I’ll 
provide.” 

“Won’t I need medicine and bedding and 
mosquito nets and cures for insect stings and 
snake-bites?” asked Frank. “I always thought 
the tropical forests were full of fever and poi- 
sonous reptiles and insects.” 

Mr. Andrews laughed. “You’ll probably not 
see a snake the whole time,” he declared, “un- 
less possibly a small boa or ‘camudi,’ as they’re 
called. As for insects, you’ll have to hunt hard 
to find scorpions, centipedes or anything worse 
than wasps or hornets and ants, and you may 
not see a mosquito on the entire trip. Fever 
doesn’t trouble one if wet clothes are changed 
for dry promptly and if you use reasonable 
care ; but I always carry a few simple medicines 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


9 


and a first aid outfit. Don’t burden yourself 
with too much, — every pound counts in por- 
taging a boat and outfit around the falls, and 
your cannister will hold all you really need.” 


CHAPTER II 


Two days after meeting Mr. Andrews, Frank 
stood upon the deck of the little river steam- 
boat and watched the roofs and docks of the 
city fade into the morning haze astern, while 
ahead stretched a vast expanse of muddy water 
with a dim cloud-like line of grey marking the 
distant shores of the river nearly thirty miles 
away. 

Mr. Andrews settled himself comfortably in 
a chair with a book and Frank soon followed 
his example, for, truth to tell, there was little 
to interest him for several hours after leaving 
the town behind. But when the steamer en- 
tered the mouth of the Essequibo and the shores 
loomed close at hand, Mr. Andrews laid his 
book aside and pointed out the various places 
of interest. 

He called attention to a large wooded island, 
which Frank had mistaken for the shore, and 

told him it was known as Dauntless Island, as 
10 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


11 


it was formed upon the wreck of a schooner 
named the Dauntless. He explained to the 
wondering boy how the sand and rubbish, car- 
ried down by the stream, accumulated where 
any object interrupted the current; how man- 
groves and other plants took root and grew 
whenever a bar was thus formed and how these 
caught more and more rubbish and sand as they 
grew, until at last the forest-clad island ten 
miles or more in length had been formed. 

Frank thought this all very wonderful and 
expressed the greatest surprise at the size of 
the river and the numerous large islands which 
hid its further shores from sight. 

“Many of them are cultivated and inhab- 
ited, ” said Mr. Andrews. “There are countless 
islands all up and down the Essequibo — some 
small, others twenty miles or more in length — 
and two at least are nearly as large as Barba- 
dos. The boat calls at several of them. The 
one we’re approaching now is Leguan.” 

As he spoke the steamer had slowed down 
and drew in to a little dock, or “stelling,” 
crowded with picturesque Hindus and ragged 
darkeys. Then, having discharged a few 


12 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


packages of cargo and a number of coolie deck 
passengers, the boat tooted its whistle and 
resumed its trip up the great river. 

From side to side the course led, sometimes 
close to the shore, at other times keeping to 
mid-stream; but ever following the channel in 
its tortuous windings. Now and then they 
passed within stone’s throw of the banks and 
Frank gazed with interest at the impenetrable 
jungle, the queer mangrove trees, the giant 
lily-like “mucka-muckas” and the graceful 
palms that grew to the very edge of the water. 

Along the muddy strip of shore stalked 
white, blue and grey herons; egrets perched 
among the sprawling roots of the mangroves, 
and once a great flock of vivid scarlet ibis rose 
and flapped ahead of the steamer, their bril- 
liant wings gleaming like living flame against 
the dark green background of the forest. 

Here and there they passed a clearing where 
wood cutters were at work; sometimes a tiny 
thatched hut was seen among the foliage and 
often dug-out canoes, great coorials and clumsy 
lighters were met, manned by crews of half- 
naked coloured men or turbanned coolies. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


13 


To Frank it was all very strange and new 
and he watched intently in the hope of catching 
sight of an Indian canoe paddled by aborigines, 
for the country seemed wild and unsettled 
enough to harbour savages, and the thatched 
huts amid the jungle savoured of the primitive, 
while the steamer seemed incongruous and out 
of place upon the bosom of the forest-bordered 
river. 

But Mr. Andrews disillusioned him. “There 
are few Indians so near the coast,” he said. 
“A few Warros and Arawaks dwell here and 
there, but they are thoroughly civilised and 
miserable specimens of the noble red man. 
You’d scarcely distinguish them from the col- 
oured people. Most of the inhabitants along 
the lower stretches of the rivers are ‘Boviand- 
ers. 

“What are ‘Bovianders’?” asked Frank. 
“It sounds like a Dutch word.” 

Mr. Andrews laughed. “It’s a corruption 
of ‘above yonder,’ ” he explained. “Any one 
who lives up the rivers lives 4 ’hove yander,’ in 
the creole dialect, so the river people who 
dwell 4 ’hove yander’ are ‘Bovianders.’ They 


14 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


are mostly coloured folk, — descendants of the 
old Dutch settlers and their slaves or people 
who have come here from the coast and have 
settled down to cut wood or raise garden 
truck.” 

The boat was now close to a large, densely 
wooded island, and as they drew close to its 
shore Frank noticed a big ruined stone build- 
ing in a little open space near the landing. 

“Why, that looks like an old fort,” he ex- 
claimed; “surely no one ever built a fort way 
up here.” 

“It is a fort,” replied Mr. Andrews; “an 
old Dutch fort, and the island is known as 
Fort Island. Strange as it may seem, the 
first Dutch settlers went far up the rivers to 
build their towns and their capital and head- 
quarters was at the junction of the Mazaruni 
and Cuyuni rivers, over sixty miles from the 
sea, at a spot called Kijk-over-al. Wild as it 
seems now, all this river district was once under 
cultivation by the Dutch, and the ruins of their 
buildings and forts are found in many places 
on the islands and the mainland.” 

“I think that’s very strange,” declared 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


15 


Frank. “Why should they take the trouble 
to sail away up the rivers and settle in the 
jungle, instead of choosing a spot on the coast, 
;like Georgetown ?” 

“There were several reasons,” replied Mr. 
Andrews. “In the interior they were less ex- 
posed to the attacks of enemies and pirates 
from which all coast settlements suffered; by 
building forts on these islands they could com- 
mand the channels and prevent vessels from 
reaching the upper rivers and, as the Indians 
were friendly, there was no reason for keeping 
to the coast, as was necessary in other locali- 
ties where the natives were a constant menace. 
In addition the interior was richer than the 
, coast lands, while the fact that it was higher 
land and above reach of floods made it easier 
to cultivate the soil and build towns than on 
the coast, where ditches and dykes must be 
made, as at Georgetown. Finally, and per- 
haps most important of all, was gold. From 
the first discovery of Guiana, the Europeans 
believed, as you know, that somewhere in the 
mterior was the golden city of Manoa and 
El Dorado. The further into the interior 


16 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


Europeans could penetrate before settling, the 
less distance they would have to travel to find 
the fabled wealth, and, moreover, the Dutch 
did find gold on the Mazaruni, where it is 
mined to-day. So you can see there was 
‘method in their madness’ after all.” 

Fort Island and its ruins had now been left 
far behind and the steamer was steadily breast- 
ing the swift current of the river. Frank 
noticed the swirling waters flowing against 
them and asked Mr. Andrews about it. “It’s 
the tide,” he replied. “The tide rises and falls 
in the rivers for sixty miles and more inland — 
in fact, to the foot of the rapids and falls — and 
the falling tide, added to the natural flow of 
the stream, produces a very strong current. 
However, it won’t delay us much to-day. 
There’s Bartica ahead now.” 

Frank soon saw the town, — a few white 
specks amid the greenery on a bluff a few miles 
ahead, while to the right the great Mazaruni 
River emptied its turbid flood into the waters 
of the Essequibo. Mr. Andrews pointed out 
the Penal Settlement gleaming in the sun on 
the opposite shores, but Frank’s eyes were all 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


17 


for the little town they were rapidly approach- 
ing and from which they were to start forth 
on their real trip into the jungle. 

Soon the boat drew alongside the dock, 
and, accompanied by Mr. Andrews, and a 
coloured boy with the baggage, Frank stepped 
ashore at this little village on the edge of the 
wilderness. 

He found it interesting enough — the crowds 
of Hindus, negroes, coloured people and 
Portuguese were picturesque, and close to the 
dock his attention was attracted to a huge, 
open, shed-like building within which countless 
haimmocks were slung with their occupants 
dozing idly, while all about were brown and 
black men cooking their meals over glowing 
fires. 

This was the “barracks for the Pork-Knock- 
ers,” Mr. Andrews informed Frank, and 
explained that “Pork-Knocker” was a local 
name for the independent native gold digger 
and that while awaiting transportation to or 
from the “diggings” the men camped in the 
big building by the docks. 

Bartica, with its single, well-kept street be- 


18 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


tween two rows of small houses and shops, was 
of little consequence, but when Frank saw the 
hotel and read the legend, “Outfitters for the 
Gold, Diamond and Rubber Fields/’ painted 
across it, he felt that at last he was at the 
borders of the wild. 

It was still early in the afternoon and Mr. 
Andrews suggested a stroll up the road into 
the bush. The outlying houses were built 
within the shadow of the forest and ’twas scarce 
more than a step from the village street to 
the silent shadowy jungle. 

In a little clearing under some giant trees 
were several huts and these Mr. Andrews told 
Frank were the homes of Indians, but the 
owners were absent and the two continued 
their stroll along the sandy pathway through 
the forest. 

Suddenly Frank uttered a little cry of sur- 
prise as from the growth beside the trail there 
stepped forth a striking figure, — a bronze- 
skinned Indian, naked save for a scarlet loin 
cloth, a gun in one hand and a small deer 
slung across his shoulder. 

Frank stood stock still, gazing at the appari- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


19 


tion, until the “buck” had passed and disap- 
peared into the bush beyond. 

“Why!” he exclaimed, “that was a real wild 
Indian.” 

Mr. Andrews laughed. “Real enough,” he 
admitted, “but hardly wild. He’s a hunter, 
and strips to his primitive costume when in 
the bush, but he’s civilised and a Christian 
most of the time and you’d never turn to look 
twice at him if you saw him in his ragged cot- 
ton clothes in the village.” 

“I’d much rather see him as I did,” declared 
Frank, as he resumed his walk. “He was a 
fine looking Indian.” 

“Yes, it’s a pity civilisation has taught them 
to wear clothes,” agreed Mr. Andrews. “With 
only a lap, the Indian is a true son of the for- 
est and perfectly suited to his life and sur- 
roundings, but dressed in white men’s garb 
and imitating Europeans in his life, he be- 
comes merely a vagabond. However, it can’t 
be helped, — it’s the same story wherever the 
white and red meet.” 

No other Indians were seen, but Frank was 
wonderfully interested in the dense forest 


20 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


growth that hemmed the path, the vine-draped 
trees, the various strange birds that flitted and 
sang in the foliage, and the flocks of chattering 
parrots that winged their way above the tree- 
tops. 

At last he was on the verge of the wilder- 
ness, — at the end of civilisation, — and that 
night he went to sleep with the cries of night 
birds and the lapping of the river in his ears 
to dream of marvellous adventures, but none 
of which could compare with what fate held 
in store for him. 


CHAPTER III 


“You’ll have a chance to visit an Indian vil- 
lage to-day,” Mr. Andrews announced the fol- 
lowing morning. “We’re off for Groete Creek, 
where there’s a good-sized Arowak village. 
The bucks are quite civilised, but their houses 
and ways of life are as primitive as ever. You 
can obtain a good idea of what an Indian vil- 
lage is like from seeing this one.” 

Breakfast over, Mr. Andrews led the way 
to a tiny stone dock behind the hotel where 
a little motor boat was waiting. 

“Oh, are we going in a launch?” asked Frank, 
as they prepared to embark. “I thought we 
would travel in a canoe paddled by Indians.” 

“Not on this trip,” replied Mr. Andrews. 
“A launch is far quicker than a canoe and 
there’s plenty of water and no rapids where 
we’re bound for. Groete Creek is a fairly 
large stream and leads to some of the gold 
diggings, — large boats pass up and down it 
constantly.” 


21 


22 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


“Well, it seems funny to go visiting an In- 
dian village in a motor boat,” declared Frank, 
as their craft slipped quickly down the river. 
“But everything seems to be a sort of hodge- 
podge here,” he added. 

For several miles the launch continued down 
the Essequibo; Bartica was lost to view astern 
and then turning to the east they passed be- 
tween two large islands and headed for an 
opening in the trees that lined the bank. 

Presently they had left the river behind and 
were sailing up the creek and Frank con- 
stantly exclaimed at the beauties and strange 
sights that greeted them at every turn. From 
the water’s edge rose the impenetrable bush. 
Great gnarled trees with huge buttressed roots, 
their branches hung with a maze of vines and 
lianas, and covered with air plants, man- 
groves, with their queer sprawling stilt-like 
roots raising their dark foliage above the 
muddy flats; slender, graceful palms with 
queerly bent stems leaning far over the water, 
and everywhere a tangled luxuriant growth 
of brush, palmettos and broad-leaved plants 
growing in riotous profusion and bound to- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


23 


gether by a tangle of rope-like creepers. In 
the shallow water grew giant arrow-leaved 
“mucka-muckas” ; overhanging trees drooped 
flowering branches and sweet-scented orchids 
above the passing boat and from the depths 
of the hush came the dog-like barks of 
toucans and the raucous screams of parrots. 
But more wonderful than all were the reflec- 
tions on the surface of the creek. The water, 
— stained a deep red-brown by the vegetation, 
— was smooth as oil and on it were mirrored 
the jungle-covered banks, the palms and 
trees ; each leaf and twig and detail so perfect 
that ’twas scarce possible to say where water 
ended and land began and, standing on the 
boat’s bow, Frank had a strange sensation of 
travelling through air with forests both above 
and beneath him. 

Now and then a pygmy kingfisher would 
dart from some jutting limb and, flashing 
like a jewel, would splash into the water to 
seize some tiny fish, or a great, dazzling, blue 
butterfly would flit lazily across the creek, its 
metallic azure wings reflected in wondrous 
manner on the surface of the water as it passed. 


24 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


Here and there little coves were seen, and 
Frank caught glimpses of frail dug-out canoes 
moored in the shelter of the trees while queer 
ladders, made from notched logs, led upwards 
from the water to the banks. These, Mr. An- 
drews told him, were landing places of the 
Indians, who had houses and provision grounds 
within the nearby forests, and Frank was quite 
excited as, on rounding a bend, they came 
face to face with a bronze Indian lad paddling 
silently down stream in a dug-out. He nodded 
to them as he passed and a moment later was 
lost to sight, and just then the launch drew in 
to a landing place where several canoes were 
hauled upon the beach. 

On the bank above were several naked chil- 
dren, but as they caught sight of the ap- 
proaching launch they scurried out of sight 
like frightened brown partridges. 

Mr. Andrews called out a few words in the 
Arowak tongue and, reassured, the Indian 
children came shyly forth from their hiding 
places and stood near as Frank and his com- 
panions stepped ashore and clambered up 
the rude ladder. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


25 


Preceded by the Indians, Mr. Andrews led 
the way up a narrow footpath through the 
jungle and presently they came forth in a 
little clearing where, half-hidden amid banana 
trees and cassava bushes, were a number of 
thatched huts. 

“Here’s the village,” said Mr. Andrews. 
“Make yourself at home, — no one will object, 
— and ask all the questions you wish. These 
bucks all speak English, — of a sort, — and I’ll 
explain anything that you’d like to under- 
stand.” 

Frank looked about with interest. The 
houses were well and neatly built of thatched 
palm leaves, but they were merely open, shed- 
like structures and Frank thought it must be 
very strange to live where one had so little 
privacy. Within the houses, which Mr. An- 
drews told him were called “benabs,” were 
slung hammocks and in some of these Indians 
or “bucks” were lolling at their ease while 
women and girls were busily cooking over 
fires under the same roofs. The men glanced 
up and greeted the newcomers, but showed no 
interest or surprise at their arrival, and Mr. 


26 THE GOLDEN CITY 

Andrews commenced to converse with them as 
though his visit was a matter of course. 

Frank noticed a woman grating some roots 
on a roughened slab of wood and asked Mr. 
Andrews about them. 

“They’re manioc or cassava roots,” he re- 
plied. “Cassava is the staple article of food 
of the Indians and the principal occupation of 
the women, or ‘buckeens,’ is cultivating and 
preparing it for use. In its natural state it’s 
deadly poison, but the juice is the only inju- 
rious portion and if this is extracted the root 
is nourishing and healthy.” 

“That’s wonderful,” declared Frank. “How 
do they extract the poisonous juice, Mr. An- 
drews?” 

“It’s a very simple process,” replied his com- 
panion. “See, yonder are women about to do 
it now.” He pointed to a woman who was 
pressing the grated roots into a strange cylin- 
der of wicker work which was held by a young 
girl. 

Drawing near, Frank watched until the 
cylinder was full of the grated white roots 
when the two Indians carried it to a nearby 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


27 


post and hung it by one end to a peg. Thrust- 
ing a long stick through the loop at the other 
end of the affair the two women pressed down 
upon it and immediately countless streams of 
milky liquid began to squirt through the inter- 
stices of the wicker work. Slowly the cylin- 
der stretched under the pressure until at last 
it was nearly twice its original length and 
scarcely half its original diameter. No more 
juice now issued from the wicker work and 
the women removed the lever and carried the 
cylinder into the hut and dumped its contents 
into a large tray of basket work. The ground 
roots were now light and nearly dry and, as 
Mr. Andrews explained, were ready for coob 
in g. 

“That apparatus is called a Metapee,” he 
said; “it’s a sort of power press and strainer 
combined and has been used by all these In- 
dians from time immemorial.” 

He then showed Frank how the cassava 
meal was sifted, how it was made into a sort 
of dough, and how this was worked into thin 
cakes which were baked on hot stones, or sheets 
of iron, over the coals. 


28 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


One of the women was busily baking these 
cakes and smilingly handed several to the vis- 
itors. Frank found them excellent but rather 
dry, and Mr. Andrews remarked that it needed 
pepper-pot to moisten it. 

“What is pepper-pot?” inquired Frank. 

“It’s another Buck’s delicacy,” replied Mr. 
Andrews. “It’s made from the juice of the 
cassava boiled down to a sirupy consistency, 
the heat of boiling driving off the volatile poi- 
son, and into this are thrown peppers, vege- 
tables, odds and ends of meat, fish, and in fact 
anything else that’s edible. It keeps forever 
and every Indian benab has a supply con- 
stantly on hand. You’d better try some so 
you can see what it’s like.” 

The Indian woman had heard and under- 
stood and she now approached and handed 
Frank a calabash filled with a dark brown 
mixture. It looked far from appetising, but 
Frank was determined to make the most of 
his trip and to sample everything new and 
strange which was offered him. 

“Dip your cake in it,” suggested Mr. An- 
drews, who was holding another calabash of 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


29 


the pepper pot. “You’ll find it rather hot, 
but you’ll get accustomed to it very soon.” 

Frank, following Mr. Andrews’ example, 
dipped his manioc cake in the calabash and 
took a good mouthful. 

Instantly tears filled his eyes, his face be- 
came scarlet, and he spluttered and coughed 
as if he had swallowed a hornet. 

“Whew!” he cried as soon as he could catch 
his breath. “It tastes like red-hot lead. How 
on earth can any one eat the stuff, — no more 
pepper-pot for me, thanks.” 

Mr. Andrews burst out laughing, and even 
the stoical Indians grinned and chuckled. 

“You should go easy at first,” said Mr. 
Andrews. “It is hot to a beginner, but it won’t 
hurt you, and hot things are really excellent 
in the tropics. Why, these Indians would 
gulp down all you have there without blinking. 
I’m accustomed to it myself and don’t mind 
it, you see.” As he spoke, he helped himself 
to another liberal mouthful. 

“Well, perhaps I might get used to it in 
time,” admitted Frank, “but it would be a 
mighty long time. I think I prefer my cassava 


30 THE GOLDEN CITY 

plain — a little of that pepper-pot goes a long 
way.” 

The episode of the pepper-pot had served 
to break the reserve of the villagers and they 
now became quite sociable, gathering about 
Frank and Mr. Andrews, chattering away 
among themselves in Arowak, and in fairly 
good English with the two visitors, until Frank 
soon felt quite at home. 

Mr. Andrews’ business was now completed, 
and while Frank would have been glad to re- 
main longer, his companion reminded him that 
there was much to be done in preparation for 
their departure up river the next day, and they 
soon boarded the waiting launch. 

“What do you think of the Indians and 
their village?” Mr. Andrews asked, as the 
launch was speeding down the creek towards 
the river. 

“They seem a very good-natured lot,” re- 
plied Frank, “but I must say I was disap- 
pointed in them. They all wear regular clothes 
and one woman actually was using a sewing 
machine. They might as well be coloured 
people in Georgetown, aside from their houses 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


31 


and the fact that they’re ever so much cleaner; 
but it was interesting to see them prepare 
manioc.” 

“And also to taste pepper-pot,” suggested 
Mr. Andrews, with a mischievous wink. 

“Yes, even that,” declared Frank, laughing. 
“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. Are 
all the Indians we’ll see like these Arowaks?” 

“No, indeed,” Mr. Andrews answered. 
“There are Acawaias, Waupisanas, Myo- 
gones, Macushis and Arekunas as well as Car- 
ibs in Guiana and each tribe is different and has 
distinct customs from all others. Most of them 
are of Carib stock and in many ways are far 
superior to the Arowaks. I expect you’ll like 
them better when you see them. They are fine 
hunters and fishermen and splendid boatmen.” 

“Then they’ll seem more like real Indians,” 
remarked Frank. “When will we find any of 
these tribes?” 

“Soon after we start up the river,” replied 
the other, “but not many until we reach the 
Rupinuni and the savanna country. We’ll 
hire a boat in Bartica and I’ll try to pick up 
a crew there this afternoon. If everything goes 


32 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


well, we’ll start up river to-morrow morning.” 

Bartica was soon reached and the rest of 
the day was spent in making arrangements for 
the trip on the morrow. Mr. Andrews soon 
found a satisfactory boat, — a spoon-bottomed, 
strongly-built craft about thirty feet in length, 
but he had great difficulty in securing men. 

“It’s unusual to go up the Essequibo 
rapids,” he explained to Frank. “They’re 
‘prohibited rapids’ — that is, there’s a severe 
penalty for any licensed boat-captain taking 
passengers through — and although, as I’m a 
government employee, the prohibition does not 
apply in our case, yet the men fight shy of it.” 

“Are the rapids as dangerous as that?” 
asked Frank. 

“At high water in the rainy season they are 
extremely dangerous, — especially when com- 
ing down, but when the river is low, as at pres- 
ent, and when going up, there is little real dan- 
ger with a good crew; I shouldn’t take you 
along if there was.” 

“I hoped it was dangerous,” said Frank re- 
gretfully. “It would have been ever so much 
more exciting.” 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


33 


“You’ll find excitement enough in it,” 
laughed Mr. Andrews, “but I’ll warrant you’ll 
tire of excitement before the forty miles of 
rapids are passed. But if we don’t get a crew 
soon we’ll have to go back to Georgetown and 
start over again up the Demerara River by 
steamer.” 

But despite difficulties, before nightfall a 
bowman and captain had been secured, as well 
as five paddlers, and Mr. Andrews announced 
his intention of setting out with this short- 
handed crew in the hope of picking up the 
three additional men required at an Indian vil- 
lage up river. 

At last baggage and provisions were stored 
in the boat, a big tarpaulin, to be used as a 
tent when camping, was spread over all and 
lashed in place, and early the next morning 
Mr. Andrews and Frank took their seats be- 
neath the canopy or “tent” in the stern. The 
men clambered aboard and grasped their pad- 
dles, and while a little knot of Barticans 
shouted good-bye and good luck, the bowman 
shoved the boat from the beach and at a cry 
from the captain the paddles dug into the 


34 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


water in unison and the craft sprang forward 
up the river. 

Frank was surprised at the speed with which 
the men rushed the heavy boat through the 
water by means of their light, narrow paddles, 
and found much to admire in the perfect 
rhythm of the dripping blades and the skill of 
the paddlers. With short-arm strokes the 
paddles would dip lightly and with little effort 
for perhaps a dozen strokes; then, at a signal 
from the bow paddler, who lifted his paddle 
on high, the stroke would suddenly change, the 
blades would be plunged deep into the stream 
and, with all the power of the arms and backs 
of the men, the boat would fairly leap ahead 
until the short, easy stroke was again resumed. 
Every motion, every stroke, was in perfect 
time and the brown arms rose and fell, the 
brawny backs bent and the paddles flashed in 
the sun as one. On the prow stood the bow- 
man, an enormous paddle in his hands and 
ready to swing the craft to right or left at 
sight of sunken snag or hidden rock, while in 
the stern stood the captain, his huge steering 
paddle slung to the gunwale with a loop of 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


35 


rope and its haft grasped firmly in his hands. 

Now and then he would utter an order, 
urge his men to greater efforts or start a song 
in which the men would join lustily, their 
voices waking the echoes of the forests along 
shore or startling flocks of waterfowl from 
their haunts among the mangroves. 


CHAPTER IV 


For several miles the boat swung along close 
to shore; past the outlying village huts and 
cultivated lands of Bartica; past the well-tilled 
rubber and lime groves of Agatash estate and 
between the mangrove-covered shores and 
wooded islands of the deserted river beyond 
the last vestige of civilisation, and with naught 
but interminable jungle stretching away on 
every hand. 

By noon the boat was approaching a dark 
rift in the dense greenery of the bush, and 
presently it swept between the walls of forest 
and entered a shadowy, winding waterway. 

Mr. Andrews told Frank this was Kurei 
Creek and that the Indian village, where he 
hoped to obtain more men, was several miles 
up the stream. Beautiful as Frank had 
thought Groete Creek, it seemed common- 
place beside the one he was now navigating. 

Through the deep silence of the forest came 
36 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


37 


the screams of parrots, the clatter of toucans 
and the cooing of doves, while waterfowl rose 
flapping from every side as the boat swept on. 
Trailing vines, wonderful orchids and drooping 
flower-laden branches formed a roof -like arch 
overhead, while pink and blue lilies at times 
choked the channel and formed miniature 
islands of sweet-scented bloom. Back and 
forth above the calm, dark water flashed the 
great dazzling blue butterflies ; gorgeous hum- 
ming birds darted from flower to flower, 
and all was mirrored to the minutest detail in 
the oil-like surface of the creek. 

Here and there Frank caught glimpses of 
great alligators dozing upon the banks beside 
the stream. Once a big anaconda slipped 
from an overhanging tree and swam swiftly 
to a safe retreat among the mangrove roots 
and, as the boat rounded a sharp turn in the 
creek, a great clumsy capybara or “water 
haas” plunged up the bank with loud snorts of 
fright and surprise at sight of intruders of 
the jungle. 

Frank grew quite excited at all these sights, 
but soon he was obliged to give all his atten- 


38 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


tion to other matters, for they now reached a 
narrow part of the creek where great fallen 
trees or “tacubas” barred the way. 

Sometimes the men drove the boat at these 
with a rush and, with a grating sound and sick- 
ening lurch, the craft rode over the sodden 
trunks, while at other times all crouched low 
as the boat was forced beneath the fallen mass 
of limbs, vines and air plants that stretched 
across the channel. 

Mr. Andrews warned Frank to be careful 
when they passed beneath the tacubas and 
pointed to the great, recurved spines upon 
many of the vines and creepers and which he 
said would tear the clothes from one’s back 
and cause fearful wounds and Frank, looking 
at the needle-pointed hooks, could well believe 
him. 

Twisting and turning, running first to right 
and then to left, following hidden leads only 
visible to the trained eyes of the men, mile 
after mile was traversed through the forest 
wonderland until, at last, they came in sight 
of a tiny cove among the trees where several 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


39 


“woodskins” lay moored to the bank, and here 
the boat was run ashore between the trees. 

“Here we are,” remarked Mr. Andrews; 
“the trail to the village leads from this spot. 
You’d better bring the gun along — we may 
see some game.” Then, giving a few orders to 
the men, he led the way up the steep bank with 
Frank close at his heels. 

“Hello! I didn’t suppose the village was 
so near,” exclaimed the boy as, reaching the 
summit of the rise, he caught sight of two 
thatched benabs in a little clearing. 

“This is not the village,” laughed Mr. An- 
drews. “These huts are ‘logis’ — houses erected 
for the use of visitors or Indians going back 
and forth to the settlements — jungle hotels 
where no charge is made and the guests help 
themselves to what they want. I expect to 
camp here to-night, as we’ll hardly have time 
to visit the village, secure our men and reach 
another camping place before dark.” 

“I think that will be fine,” declared Frank, 
“to really camp out in the forest. Do you sup- 
pose I’ll be able to go for a hunt? There 
must be plenty of game in the bush about.” 


40 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


“There’s plenty of game, no doubt,” replied 
his companion, as they left the logis behind and 
hurried along a narrow trail, “but you’ll scarce- 
ly be likely to find anything by yourself. No 
doubt one of the Indians from the village will 
gladly take you into the bush for a few hours 
this afternoon.” 

The trail they had been following had now 
entered the bush and for a mile or more led 
through the virgin forest, where giant trees 
rose for a hundred feet and more on every side 
with vines and lianas trailing downward like 
great twisted cables. 

From all about echoed the cries of parrots 
and toucans ; macaws croaked and yelled from 
the leafy roof that formed a dense canopy im- 
penetrable to the sun, and from distant glades 
came the wonderful silvery notes of the bell 
birds. 

It was all dark, damp, cool and wonderful, 
and Frank, feeling sure that at any moment 
he might see some wild creature lurking in the 
shadows, kept his gun ready and glanced 
keenly from side to side as he passed along the 
trail. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


41 


Suddenly from a little tangle of fallen trees 
and vines a flock of great birds sprang up with 
roar of beating wings and Frank, throwing his 
gun to shoulder, blazed away. 

At the report one of the birds crashed down- 
ward to the earth, and hurrying forward Frank 
picked up the first game he had killed in the 
jungle. It was a splendid black and white 
creature with brilliant blue, purple and red 
wattles and as large as a fowl, and Mr. An- 
drews told the elated boy it was known as a 
“marudi” and was good eating. Frank 
handed the marudi to one of the men who was 
following and resumed his way, hoping mo- 
mentarily to flush more game. 

But nothing else was seen and soon they 
emerged from the forest and, passing through 
a little garden of cassava and plantains, came to 
a cluster of Indian huts. As they approached, 
Frank caught a glimpse of brown bodies scur- 
rying out of sight, but a moment later the wo- 
men reappeared clad in loose cotton gowns, and 
Mr. Andrews explained that these Indian 
women thought it necessary to wear clothing 
when strangers were about, although when by 


42 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


themselves they were content with only queyus 
or bead-work aprons. 

A number of men were swinging lazily in 
luxurious hammocks, some clad merely in laps, 
others in ragged shirts and trousers, and with- 
out rising or turning their heads they greeted 
the white men with a guttural “Howdy,” and 
without further ceremony Mr. Andrews en- 
tered the largest house and seated himself in 
an empty hammock. 

At his first glimpse of these Indians Frank 
had noticed they were very different from the 
Arowaks he had seen at Groete Creek, for they 
were lighter coloured, — scarcely darker than 
Japanese, — their faces were more intelligent, 
their features were well formed and their 
bodies and limbs were marvels of muscular de- 
velopment. 

As Mr. Andrews began to speak to an 
old man in a hammock beneath the benab 
Frank listened with amazement, for instead of 
broken English he heard a queer jargon that 
sounded like the “pigeon English” he had read 
in stories of the far East. 

“Must for makeum walk topside Utaballi,” 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


43 


said Mr. Andrews. “Spose can catchum Buck- 
man, — t’ree fellah for makeum?” 

The old Indian half rose and addressed a 
few words in his native tongue to his com- 
panions to which they replied in the same lan- 
guage. 

“How long walk um all same come back 
same side?” he then inquired of Mr. Andrews. 

“No savvy; mebbe half moon, mebbe one 
moon. Makeum walk Rupinuni side; mebbe 
all same Kaieteur. How can tell? Me good 
friend all same Buckman. Me payum like so.” 

Again the Indians conversed and as they did 
so Mr. Andrews asked Frank what he thought 
of these new acquaintances and their manner 
of speaking. 

“They seem much more like real Indians 
than those Arowaks,” replied the boy, “but I 
didn’t realise these people spoke pigeon 
English.” 

Mr. Andrews laughed. “It’s not pigeon 
English,” he answered, “but is called ‘talky- 
talky.’ It’s used by all the Indians in the 
interior — a sort of Lingua Franca of the bush. 
These people are Ackawaias — one of the tribes 


44 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


of Carib stock. They are far superior to the 
Arowaks and are splendid boatmen and hunt- 
ers.” 

Three young Bucks had now risen from their 
hammocks and approached Mr. Andrews. 

“Me tellum makeum walk,” announced their 
spokesman. 

“Why! Hello Joseph,” exclaimed Mr. An- 
drews as he recognised the speaker. “What 
for you makeum sleep this side?” 

The Indian, a pleasant-faced young fellow, 
grinned. “Makeum for catchum wife this 
side,” he replied. “He makeum my Buckeen.” 
He pointed to a comely young girl who was 
busily grating cassava roots near by. 

“Eh, eh! Makeum you son, no?” exclaimed 
Mr. Andrews, addressing the old chief, and 
then, turning to Frank, he explained that Jo- 
seph was an Arekuna boy who had accom- 
panied him on former trips and that he had 
married the daughter of the Ackawaia chief. 

“He’s a splendid hunter,” he added. “If 
you’d like to go for a hunt, he’s just the one 
to take you.” 

“This boy he callum Frank,” he said, turn- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


45 


ing to the Arekuna. “He want makeum one 
walk for hunt. Why you no catchum powi? 
Me tellum shootum deer, shootum labba same 
day.” 

The Arekuna smiled and nodded, and tak- 
ing a long pole from the rafters of his house 
he signified that he was ready to proceed. 

“He’ll show you game, I’ll warrant,” said 
Mr. Andrews, “and you’ll see something that 
will interest you if he uses that blowgun he’s 
taking along. Remember what I told you 
about the Wurari poison they use on their 
blowgun darts?” 

“Yes, I remember,” said Frank. “I’ll cer- 
tainly be glad to see Joseph use it.” 

Leading the way, the Arekuna started to- 
wards the forest with Frank close behind, and 
in a moment the village and clearing were lost 
to sight and the two boys were in the jungle. 


CHAPTER V 


For a few rods they followed a dim, winding 
trail, and then Joseph turned to one side and 
stepped into the pathless bush. 

So dense was the growth of trees, vines, 
palms and giant ferns that Frank could scarce 
see a score of feet in any direction. Project- 
ing roots and fallen limbs tripped his feet; 
thorn-armed creepers tore and dragged at his 
clothes and scratched his hands, and hanging 
vines slapped like whips across his face and 
pulled the hat from his head as he fought his 
way after the Indian, who slipped through the 
labyrinth without the least difficulty. Twist- 
ing and turning, crouching low, now and then 
slashing through a vine or creeper with his keen 
machete, Joseph hurried on, avoiding the 
thorns and tangles by instinct, never stepping 
on fallen limb or knife-edged root, while his 
white companion marvelled that bare feet and 

naked skin were not cut to pieces by the spikes 
46 


THE GOLDEN CITY 47 

which ripped rents in his own stout khaki gar- 
ments. 

But Frank was no novice at woodcraft and 
though he had never before entered a tropic 
jungle, yet his experiences in northern forests 
helped him here, and, by watching the actions 
of his guide, he quickly learned to make his way 
through the maze with comparatively little 
noise and no great difficulty. 

And now he began to take note of his sur- 
roundings. From every side he heard croaks 
of tree frogs, the twitter of birds and weird 
cries of hidden creatures, while louder than all, 
ceaselessly, and seemingly from close at hand, 
issued a loud ringing “Whip-whee-weo-oo!” 
Frank peered intently into the foliage, striving 
to catch a glimpse of the bird which, from the 
sound of its call, he felt sure must be very large, 
but he could see nothing and at last he spoke 
to Joseph and asked about it. 

“Wallaba bird,” replied the Arekuna and, 
standing by Frank’s side, he pointed to a dull 
grey bird the size of a robin, which he assured 
his companion was the author of all the noise. 

Frank could scarcely believe it possible, but, 


48 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


as he watched, the bird again uttered its wild 
lashing note and he was convinced. Later he 
learned that the loud-voiced creature was also 
known as the Gold Bird and that the natives 
looked upon it with a superstitious reverence 
as they believed its presence indicated gold in 
the vicinity. 

Deeper and deeper into the forest Joseph 
led the way, until, reaching the bank of a tiny 
stream, he stopped and signalling Frank to 
be cautious, pointed to a number of deep foot- 
prints in the soft mud. 

“Bush cow,” he whispered, and thus Frank 
knew that the tracks were those of a tapir. 

With gun ready he crept after Joseph as 
the latter, half-crouching, followed the tracks 
along the creek. Presently they came to a 
dense, matted tangle of bamboo, wild plantains 
and razor grass, and seemingly impenetrable; 
but the tapir’s tracks led into it, and Frank 
wondered how such a large and bulky creature 
could force its way into the tangle and leave 
no signs of its passage. Noiselessly the 
Arekuna parted the growths and inch by inch 
the two wormed their way into the thicket. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


49 


Suddenly Joseph halted and, beckoning Frank 
to his side, pointed ahead. Frank peered at 
the spot indicated through an opening among 
the foliage, but could distinguish nothing save 
the intertwined vines and stems, the many- 
coloured leaves and the lights and shadows cast 
upon the black and muddy ground. 

“Me tellum shootum. Matti! matti! Why 
you no seeum,” whispered Joseph excitedly. 

But to the white boy’s eyes there was no 
sign of living thing, and piqued at his inability 
to see what was so plainly visible to the Indian, 
he took a step forward. 

As he did so a dead limb was disturbed and 
tumbled to the earth and at the sound there 
was a tremendous snort and a ridge of earth, 
at which Frank had been gazing, sprang to life 
and crashed out of sight in the brush. 

Frank was so dumbfounded, so utterly un- 
prepared for this sudden animation of what he 
had mistaken for a patch of earth, that for an 
instant he stood gazing in open-mouthed 
amazement as the huge black beast disap- 
peared. Then, recovering himself, he fired 
both barrels of his gun at the swaying vines. 


50 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


Joseph hurried forward with Frank beside 
him, but the tapir had escaped unhurt. 
Frank was heartily ashamed of his failure to 
see the tapir or to shoot it ere it escaped, hut 
Joseph made no comment and hurried on in 
search of other game. 

As they proceeded, Frank determined he’d 
not be so stupid next time, and presently the 
Indian again stopped and listened attentively 
and then, cautioning Frank to be silent, crept 
noiselessly forward. From tree to tree he 
slipped, now and then uttering a low whistle, 
and soon Frank heard an answering call from 
the tree-tops ahead. Reaching the shelter of 
a huge greenheart tree, the Indian pointed to 
the limbs and branches of a tree a short dis- 
tance away. 

“Powi,” he whispered. “Two, t’ree powi.” 

From the lofty canopy of foliage bits of fruit 
came pattering down, but despite his every 
effort Frank found it impossible to see the 
powis or curassows which Joseph was striving 
to show him. 

The Arekuna was evidently quite disgusted 
with his white companion’s poor eyesight, and 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


51 


with a pitying look and remarking, “Mebbe 
me killum like so, catchum same way,” he drew 
a tiny dart from the cylindrical case hung 
about his neck and slipping it into his blowgun 
raised the latter to his lips and gave a short, 
sharp puff of breath. 

F rank was intensely interested at thus seeing 
the blowgun used, but the dart travelled too 
swiftly for his eyes to follow. In the foliage, 
however, he saw a flutter of wings and the next 
instant a great black bird came tumbling 
through the leaves. Half way to earth, the 
stricken powi caught fast in a tangle of vines 
and as, for a moment, it hung swaying back 
and forth, a lithe, mottled body leaped with 
the speed of light from a clump of air plants 
and seizing the powi in its jaws turned and 
sprang back towards its lair. 

But at that instant Frank’s gun roared out, 
the leaping form doubled up in mid-air and 
plunged to earth. The two youths dashed for- 
ward and Frank’s heart swelled with pride as 
he looked upon the splendid ocelot lying dead 
upon the ground with the powi still held firmly 
in its sharp white teeth. He had made a splen- 


52 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


did shot; the episode of the tapir was offset and 
he had won the everlasting admiration of the 
Indian who, forgetting his stoicism, pranced 
about showering Arekuna and talky-talky 
compliments on his companion, for to him the 
feat bordered on the supernatural. 

Lashing the feet of the ocelot together with 
vines, Joseph slung the big cat over his shoul- 
ders and, as it was now growing late, he led the 
way towards the distant village. 

How he knew the direction was a puzzle to 
Frank, for there was no sign of a trail, no sun 
shone through the dense roof of leaves over- 
head, and there were none of the indications of 
north or south which Frank was accustomed 
to look for in the northern forests. Moreover, 
the growth was everywhere so dense that noth- 
ing was visible for more than a few yards, and 
Frank was completely turned around and 
realised how hopelessly he would be lost if 
left alone in this wilderness. But without the 
least hesitation Joseph hurried on with un- 
erring instinct and scarce glancing to right or 
to left as he proceeded. 

Apparently he gave no heed to his surround- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


53 


ings, but his keen eyes missed nothing and no 
sound escaped his ears. Once he stopped 
abruptly and pointed to a bunch of dull, green- 
ish-grey suspended from a branch and which, 
to Frank, looked like a mass of air-plants. 

“Sloth,” announced the Indian. “No sabby 
sloth? Plenty good for eat. S’pose shootum.” 

“You shootum,” replied Frank, loth to be- 
lieve the motionless object was actually alive, 
and also anxious to see Joseph use his strange 
but deadly weapon. 

Quickly Joseph placed a dart in the tube, 
pointed it at the grey bunch so far above the 
ground, placed his lips to the mouthpiece and 
blew. 

This time Frank caught a glimpse of the 
little arrow as it sped silently through the air 
and he saw it disappear in the object hanging 
to the limb. As it struck, the apparently in- 
animate mass moved slightly, a long hairy leg 
stretched out and clawed at the air for an 
instant and then, relaxing its hold, it dropped 
from the branch and came plunging down. 

“Well, that is wonderful,” exclaimed Frank 


54 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


as Joseph picked up the dead sloth and added 
him to his burden. 

“I never would have believed that little sliver 
of palm stem would kill a creature so quickly,” 
he added half to himself. “Whew! What ter- 
rible enemies these Indians would be.” 

Soon after killing the sloth the two hunters 
came in sight of a clearing and stepped forth 
from the forest along a narrow path. The 
sun had now dropped below the fringe of 
trees to the west; behind them the jun- 
gle was already black with shadows and 
even the clearing was dim and indistinct. 
Far overhead great macaws winged their home- 
ward way, their long tails streaming like pen- 
nants behind them and their discordant cries 
borne faintly on the still evening air. In the 
thickets myriads of insects shrilled and sang; 
from the jungle came the last twitters and 
chirps of retiring birds; fireflies glowed here 
and there in the shadows and great bats flitted 
softly across the path. 

Presently amid the banner-like plantain 
leaves Frank saw a thatched roof; the sound 
of voices were heard and a moment later the 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


55 


two came in view of a large hut bright with 
the glow of campfires over which several men 
were busily cooking their evening meal. 

Frank uttered a little cry of surprise. This 
was not the Indian village he had expected to 
see. Where were they? How had Joseph 
missed the way? But before he could ask a 
question a cheery voice cried out, “Hello! 
Here you are at last. What luck, Frank?” 
and as Mr. Andrews stepped from the benab 
it dawned upon Frank that they had reached 
the logi by the creek where they were to spend 
the night. 

“Fine luck,” he replied, “an ocelot, a powi 
and a sloth. But do tell me how Joseph knew 
he was to lead me here? I didn’t tell him.” 

Mr. Andrews laughed. “Mental telepathy, 
I guess,” he answered. “But more likely com- 
mon sense. I told the Indians to be here at 
daylight ready for our start, and Joseph rea- 
soned that we’d naturally camp here and saved 
time by coming direct. You’ve certainly had 
good luck. I warrant you’ve a good appetite. 
Supper’s ready, so you’ll not have to wait.” 

The hammocks were already slung beneath 


56 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


the logis and the meal over, Frank was glad to 
throw himself in the comfortable hammock 
Mr. Andrews had provided. He was quite 
tired with his unaccustomed walk and cover- 
ing himself with a thick woollen blanket he 
soon fell asleep. Once he was aroused by a 
weird, half-human scream, and sat up trem- 
bling and with a queer tingling sensation along 
his spine. Again the awful sound rose and fell 
in a long-drawn moan through the night, and 
reaching out, Frank shook Mr. Andrews’ ham- 
mock and in frightened tones asked what it 
was. 

“Only a tiger,” sleepily replied the other. 
“It won’t come near. Don’t be frightened, but 
go to sleep.” 

As Mr. Andrews showed no concern and the 
men were undisturbed, Frank again settled 
himself in his hammock, but for a long time 
he could not sleep, but lay awake, listening to 
the innumerable sounds that filled the black 
tropic night. From the creek the frogs boomed 
and croaked; tree toads whistled and piped on 
every side; night birds swept past the logi ut- 
tering loud and startling cries; an owl hooted 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


57 


in the woods; a chorus of insect songs filled 
the air with vibrations; bats squeaked as they 
flitted by unseen, and, far off in the jungle, a 
mighty tree crashed to earth with the noise of 
thunder, while like ever-moving incandescent 
lamps the great fireflies danced and flashed 
everywhere in the blackness. 

But the jaguar did not scream again and 
when Frank next opened his eyes the air was 
full of soft rosy light, birds were singing, the 
men were busy over the fires and from the 
forest came the strange booming cries of the 
howling monkeys, — harbingers of the coming 
day. 


CHAPTER VI 


The Indians from the village were already on 
hand and with a full crew the boat sped down 
the creek and into the river. Soon the char- 
acter of the stream changed. The banks were 
higher, ledges and dykes of granite projected 
from the water along shore, and countless small 
islands dotted the surface of the water and 
hid the further mainland from sight. Many of 
these were high and densely wooded, others 
were barren masses of granite, and in many 
cases they had been worn and carved into 
strange weird shapes which resembled titanic 
fossil monsters. 

Late in the afternoon Frank caught sight of 
a flashing white line among the rocks and 
ledges ahead, and Mr. Andrews told him 
’twas the first of the rapids. The current had 
now become swift, the men were obliged to 
paddle with all their strength and the bowman 

was constantly on the alert, dodging the ledges 

5S 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


59 


and reefs which jutted everywhere to within a 
few inches of the surface. 

Just as the sun was sinking behind the for- 
est, the boat was run upon a sandy beach on 
a wooded islet at the foot of the rapids and the 
men were soon busily making camp for the 
night. 

The big tarpaulin was unrolled and stretched 
between four trees, stout stakes were driven 
into the earth and to these the hammocks were 
slung and camp fires were soon blazing. 

Frank was watching these preparations with 
interest when Joseph appeared. “S’pose 
want shootum water haas?” he asked. 

“Surely,” cried Frank, and seizing his gun 
he followed Joseph along the crescent of yel- 
low sand. At the further edge, beneath droop- 
ing mangrove boughs, was a little pool, and all 
about its edge were the imprints of hoofs which 
the Indian stated were made by capybaras or 
water haas. Carefully parting the branches, 
Joseph crept into the woods, followed by 
Frank, who had not dreamed that on the tiny 
island there was a possibility of finding game. 
Within a dozen yards of the beach, a big capy- 


60 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


bara sprang up from its feeding place beneath 
the low-growing trees and Frank, by a quick 
shot, secured him. 

Joseph sprang forward towards the creature 
and as he did so there was a rustling of leaves 
to one side and Frank had a glimpse of some 
animal leaping through the brush. Not know- 
ing what it might be, he took a quick snap shot 
with the other barrel of his gun and hurried 
into the bushes. 

Scarcely expecting that he had actually hit 
the creature, he glanced about and the next 
instant uttered a shout, for lying dead among 
the rank weeds was a fine savanna deer. 

Every one dined royally that night, and 
Frank declared that water haas was the finest 
meat he had ever tasted. There was enough 
in the capybara for all the company and the 
deer, after being skinned and dressed, was 
hung up above a fire to smoke or “bucan”; a 
method of curing which Mr. Andrews stated 
was universally used in the bush and which 
would preserve the meat fresh and fit to eat 
for several weeks. Lulled to rest by the swish 
of the water on the beach and the distant roar 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


61 


of the rapids, Frank slept soundly and did not 
awaken until aroused by the Indians starting 
the fires at daybreak, and by the cries of the 
howling monkeys on the distant mainland. 

The lovely beach looked most inviting and, 
jumping from his hammock, Frank called to 
Mr. Andrews that he was going for a swim. 

“Hold on there,” cried Mr. Andrews ex- 
citedly. “Don’t go near the water if you value 
your life. It’s full of Perais. Thank Heaven 
you spoke before ’twas too late.” 

“Why, what’s the matter?” cried Frank in 
surprise and somewhat startled by Mr. An- 
drews’ words and his anxious tone of voice. 
“What’s so dangerous about it? What are 
perais anyway?” 

“I forgot you didn’t know,” replied the 
other. “Perais are a kind of fish, — the most 
voracious of creatures. They’ll tear a man or 
any animal to pieces in a few moments with 
their knife-like jaws — literally eat you alive.” 

“Why, they must be the ‘man-eating fish’ 
I’ve read about,” exclaimed Frank, “but I 
always thought they were fabulous things, — ■ 
just travellers’ yarns.” 


62 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


“Nothing fabulous or yarny about them,” 
declared Mr. Andrews. “They are common 
in all these streams, but just here they are 
particularly abundant. Throw the head of 
that water-haas into the river and you’ll see.” 

Curious to see the fish which bore such an 
evil reputation, Frank carried the capybara’s 
head to the edge of the beach and cast it into 
the river. Scarcely had it touched the water 
when there was a flash and dash and from 
every side scores of fish rushed towards the 
head. Leaping from the water in their haste, 
they snapped, bit and tore and in a moment 
the flesh and skin were stripped from the skull 
and the water fairly boiled with the ferocious 
struggling fishes. Now and then one would 
be bitten by its fellows and instantly the others 
would turn upon him and devour him alive, 
and F rank shuddered to think of how he would 
have fared had he leaped into the river as he 
had planned. 

“I’ve seen enough,” he announced, as at 
Mr. Andrews’ call he returned to the camp for 
breakfast. “No bathing in these rivers for 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


63 


“Oh, there are plenty of places where it’s 
perfectly safe,” declared Mr. Andrews. “The 
Indians can tell you where there are perais 
and where there are none; but keep out of 
water until you’re sure.” 

“I’ll be on the safe side and keep out alto- 
gether,” said Frank; “that is unless the boat 
upsets.” 

“In that case you’d probably be safe enough. 
The perais seldom or never attack people with 
clothes on.” 

Soon after breakfast was over, the boat was 
again under way and a few minutes later was 
approaching the foot of the rapids. As far as 
Frank could see stretched a steep slope of 
foaming, tumbling, roaring water and dashing 
like a mill race between the jutting black rocks 
and ledges that filled the river. How any boat 
could make its way through the angry turmoil 
was past his understanding, but the men went 
about their preparations unconcernedly and 
Frank realised they must know how to accom- 
plish the seemingly impossible feat. 

Just at the foot of the rapids the boat was 
run alongside a shelving rock and, in obedience 


64 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


to the captain’s orders, Frank and Mr. An- 
drews stepped ashore while all the men, with 
the exception of the captain and bowman, 
jumped from the boat. Uncoiling three stout 
ropes, the men fastened two to the stern and 
one to the bow. Two men then grasped each 
of the stern lines and stood bracing themselves 
upon the rocks while the other four seized the 
bowline and half-wading, half-swimming, 
breasted the rapids and gained a foothold on 
rocks a hundred feet or more upstream. Then, 
at a cry from the captain, the bowman swung 
the boat into the current ; the men on the bow- 
rope hauled with all their strength ; the captain 
shouted orders ; the bowman paddled furiously ; 
the men on the rocks bent to their task and 
slowly the boat forged ahead. With consum- 
mate skill the captain and bowman swung the 
craft clear of the rocks, the stern lines kept 
it headed into the rushing water and inch by 
inch the boat crept up the rapids. About its 
bow the angry waters foamed and seethed and 
the hungry waves leaped above its rails, but 
in a few moments the way was won and the 
craft shot from the torrent into a calm pool 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


65 


above the falls. Frank and Mr. Andrews hur- 
ried up the river, leaping from rock to rock, 
and gained the boat ; the lines were again coiled 
down; the men took their places and seized 
their paddles, and swiftly the boat sped onward 
towards the next stretch of rapids. Frank was 
delighted. “It’s wonderful,” he exclaimed. 
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world; but 
I don’t see anything dangerous about it, — 
we’re perfectly safe on the rocks.” 

“This is only the beginning,” replied Mr. 
Andrews. “Wait until we get into really bad 
water and whirlpools. Then you’ll see where 
the danger comes in.” 

Over and over again the two passengers 
stepped ashore as the men hauled the boat 
through the rapids and each time the water 
became more turbulent, and each time the men 
found greater difficulty in dragging the heavy 
craft through the falls. 

Five miles perhaps had been covered in this 
slow and tedious manner when Mr. Andrews 
announced that they were approaching a dan- 
gerous spot. Here there was a drop of some 
ten feet, — a plunging rock-strewn cataract, — 


66 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


and a dozen times the men strove to gain foot- 
hold on the rocks. Over and over again they 
were sw T ept struggling down stream, but at 
last they won a stand waist-deep in the flood, 
and by almost superhuman efforts dragged 
the boat above the falls. 

“Now hold tight and sit quietly,’’ admon- 
ished Mr. Andrews, as he and Frank re-entered 
the boat; “there’s a bad whirlpool ahead.” 

Frank could see it, — a great swirling, oval 
space and in a moment later they were in it. 
With every ounce of their strength, the eight 
muscular men plied their paddles, the boat 
hung motionless for an instant, the bow quiv- 
ered and vibrated to the drag of the water, and 
then the craft shot forward. High above them 
boiled the maelstrom as the centre of the pool 
w r as reached, the boat seemed actually to rear 
on end, it slid up a hill of water, and, ere Frank 
had time to realise it was accomplished, the 
craft had dashed beyond the danger point and 
was safe in a narrow, swiftly-flowing channel 
beyond the whirlpool. 

Up this the men forced the boat by pad- 
dles and Frank, looking over the side, won- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


67 


dered how they could swerve and guide their 
craft among the fang-like rocks that ripped 
the water into foam on every side. Suddenly, 
with a sickening lurch and a crashing, grind- 
ing sound, the boat dashed full upon a 
rock. Frank gripped the rail and with set face 
sat waiting for the end, for it seemed impos- 
sible that the boat could withstand the shock 
and each second he expected it to fill and sink 
or to capsize, for perched upon the rock, it 
swung and tipped perilously. He knew 
that once in the water he would stand no 
chance, — that just below was the awful whirl- 
pool in which no swimmer could survive, and 
he gulped with deadly fear. But ere he could 
voice his terror, the men slipped over the 
edge and, up to their necks in the water, were 
tugging and straining at the boat and in an 
instant actually had lifted it bodily from the 
rock, and as it once more floated free they 
leaped nimbly in and bent once more to their 
paddles. 

“That’s about the worst spot,” remarked 
Mr. Andrews. “Coming down there are other 
places more dangerous, for the channels be- 


68 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


tween the rocks are so numerous and so much 
alike that one is apt to take the wrong lead 
and go over the higher falls. See, yonder’s a 
spot of the sort, — a boat went over there a few 
years ago and thirty-five men were lost.” 

Frank gazed on the spot indicated and 
could well understand how a boat rushing 
down stream might meet such a fate, for the 
channel branched and while one half led to 
the passage through the rapids up which the 
boat had come, the other led to the brink of the 
cataract and destruction. 

“I’m not sorry we’re past the worst of it,” 
he admitted. “It’s exciting and thrilling 
enough to suit any one, but I don’t fancy those 
whirlpools and running on rocks.” 

Hardly had he spoken when the boat again 
struck as before, the men again leaped out and 
lifted it free and once more continued on their 
way as if nothing unusual had occurred. 

“The rocks won’t injure the boat,” said Mr. 
Andrews. “These river craft are built won- 
derfully strong of native wood and are de- 
signed especially for use in the rapids. You 
may have noticed the queer spoon-shape of the 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


69 


bottom. That’s to enable the men to slide it 
off the rocks easily in any direction. If the 
boats had keels or straight bows and sterns 
they’d be wedged hard and fast many a time, 
even if they didn’t capsize or were not 
smashed.” 

“I can see that now,” replied Frank, “al- 
though I wondered why ’twas built that way 
at first.” 

It was now noon and, a stretch of tranquil 
water being reached, the boat was run onto a 
shelving ledge and the men prepared lunch. 
Frank was lolling in the shade and admiring 
the beautiful reflections on the river, and the 
wonderful foliage about, when he saw Joseph 
hurrying up stream with his bow and arrows 
in his hand. Anxious to see what he was after, 
Frank followed at a little distance. 

Presently the Indian stopped by the edge 
of the stream, fitted an arrow to his bow and 
drew it back as if to shoot into the water. For 
an instant he stood, like a statue in bronze with 
poised weapon, and then, relaxing his bow, he 
stood erect and commenced a low whistle, 


70 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


meanwhile making a strange beckoning motion 
with his fingers. 

Frank was puzzled. What the Indian was 
doing was incomprehensible and the boy 
watched him intently. Suddenly the Indian 
ceased his odd motions, drew his bow and sent 
the arrow whizzing into the water. Dropping 
his bow, he plunged into the stream and com- 
menced swimming after the arrow-shaft which 
was bobbing and dancing about in a most re- 
markable way. Reaching it, Joseph seized it 
in one hand, struck out for shore and, gaining 
the ledge, commenced hauling rapidly on a line 
which was attached to the arrow. In a moment 
a great, splashing silvery fish appeared and 
the Indian drew his prize upon the rocks. 

Frank hurried to Joseph’s side. “How you 
catchum?” he asked. “Me tellum shootum 
bownarrer same way like so,” replied Joseph, 
as, bending over, he drew forth a tiny barbed 
iron arrow-head from the fish’s side. 

Frank examined the weapon with intense 
interest, for to him the idea of shooting fish 
with bow and arrows was absolutely amazing. 
He found the arrow, which was nearly five feet 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


71 


in length, had no feathers and that the barbed 
iron head was merely fitted loosely to the shaft 
to which it was connected by a long strong 
line. It was, in fact, a miniature harpoon shot 
from a bow, and he at once understood how 
the shaft, floating free when the fish was struck, 
served as a buoy which enabled the fisherman 
to secure the line. But he was still filled 
with wonder that the Indian could strike a fish 
far under water and was at a complete loss as 
to why Joseph had whistled and waved his 
hand before shooting. 

“Me tellum must for callum fish like so,” 
Joseph replied to Frank’s query, and at this 
Frank smiled, thinking it was some queer In- 
dian superstition or custom. 

“I’ve seen the most interesting thing,” an- 
nounced Frank as he rejoined Mr. Andrews. 
“Joseph shot a huge fish with his bow and 
arrows and he went through the funniest sort 
of ceremony — wiggled his fingers and whistled 
before shooting. He says he was ‘calling’ the 
fish.” 

“So he was,” replied Mr. Andrews. “It may 
sound like nonsense, but nevertheless it’s a fact 


72 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


that these Bucks can r call’ the fish within range 
in that way. I’ve seen it done scores of times.” 

“I’d never believe it if you hadn’t said so, 
and if I hadn’t seen it myself,” declared Frank. 
“I thought ’twas merely some sort of incanta- 
tion or mummery.” 

“Seeing’s believing,” laughed Mr. Andrews. 
“If fish are within range the Indians don’t 
call them, but if they are too deep beneath the 
water they always call them up. You’ll see 
many a strange and seemingly impossible thing 
before you’re out of the bush.” 

After lunch the trip was resumed and all 
through the afternoon they alternately paddled 
through stretches of smooth, placid water and 
hauled the boat through rapids. Frank had 
now become so accustomed to this that he no 
longer felt nervous and, save where there was a 
particularly bad spot or when the boat ground- 
ed on the rocks, he gave little heed to it. But 
he was delighted with the wonders of forest and 
stream which surrounded them as they swept 
swiftly up the calm stretches. Great wooded 
islands were everywhere ; golden yellow beaches 
alternated with dark masses of rugged rocks 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


73 


and the forest, which rose in a solid wall above 
the shores, was marvellous in its character and 
colours. Amid the thousand shades of green 
gleamed huge masses of vivid crimson, deepest 
orange, brilliant blue, wonderful purple and 
purest white, where flowering trees and vines 
were glorious with strange blooms, and in many 
a spot the falling blossoms strewed the water 
with their petals and formed a multi-coloured 
carpet beneath the overhanging limbs. So 
thickly grew the trees, and so densely were they 
festooned and hung with creepers and parasitic 
growths, that there was scarce a hint of trunks 
or branches and the forest looked like a two- 
hundred-foot bank of moss or multi-coloured 
velvet draped in enormous folds. 

But wonderful as was the jungle, Frank was 
more attracted by the wild life which teemed 
along the river. Great white and silvery river 
terns wheeled back and forth above the water; 
skimmers lined the beaches where clumsy tur- 
tles basked; egrets and herons stalked majesti- 
cally in the shallows; a constant stream of 
macaws, parrots and toucans winged across 
from shore to shore ; vultures and hawks swept 


74 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


in huge circles in the clear blue sky, and once 
a giant crested eagle soared screaming on ten- 
foot pinions above the treetops. On every 
rock immense flocks of dainty violet swallows 
perched, and, twittering, took flight as the boat 
approached; long-necked cormorants craned 
their heads and gazed curiously at the passers- 
by and gorgeous sun bitterns fluttered and 
spread their harlequin wings by the water’s 
edge. Ofter the boat skirted close to the shore 
and underneath the shade of the forest, and 
F rank watched the hordes of vampire bats that 
fluttered from their roosting places on dead 
limbs and fallen trees and flitted ahead for 
a few yards to once more alight, head-down, 
upon other limbs. They were seldom trouble- 
some Mr. Andrews told him, but at times men 
were bitten and knew nothing of it until they 
awoke, feeling faint and weak, with blood 
streaming from their lacerated toes or fingers. 

“There’s little danger as long as a fire is kept 
burning,” he assured Frank; “I’ve spent many 
years in the bush and have never been bitten 
by a vampire yet. The Indians pay no atten- 
tion to them. Look, there’s an otter.” 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


75 


Frank turned to see a big dog-like head mov- 
ing swiftly across the stream, with a broad, sil- 
very wake behind it, and, seizing his gun, he 
fired; but at the flash the otter dove, the shot 
pattered harmlessly in the water and when the 
creature rose again he was far out of range. 

“You’ll need a rifle to get him,” laughed Mr. 
Andrews. “They’re very wild and hard to 
shoot. Hello! Here’s something you can 
kill.” 

As he spoke he pointed to a slanting “ta- 
cuba” which jutted from the water a few rods 
ahead, and Frank gave a little exclamation of 
surprise at w T hat he saw. 

Coiled upon the dead tree was a huge ser- 
pent, its scales marbled with brown, yellow 
and black and shimmering with innumerable 
iridescent rainbow tints. 

“Camudi,” whispered the Indians. 

“Anaconda,” said Mr. Andrews. “He’s 
asleep,” he added. “We’ll run close in and 
wake him up and as he starts to glide away you 
can fire at his head and avoid spoiling his skin 
— he must be nearly twenty feet long.” 

Frank became quite excited as the boat 


76 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


neared the huge snake and he stood ready with 
gun cocked. To him the anaconda or “ca- 
mudi” seemed gigantic — he would have vowed 
it was fifty feet in length, and wild tales of 
these creatures attacking men and crushing 
them in their coils passed through his mind. 
But the Indians seemed to have no dread of the 
reptile and paddled the boat within twenty feet 
of the snake. 

“Beady now,” cautioned Mr. Andrews, and 
as he spoke he tossed a piece of driftwood at 
the sleeping creature. Instantly the snake 
was awake, and from the centre of its coils 
a broad blunt-nosed head shot forth with 
forked tongue darting in and out and dull 
eyes gazing steadfastly at the occupants of the 
boat. Higher and higher the head was raised, 
swaying gently from side to side, and then 
with a sudden, swift motion it darted forward 
along the tree trunk, the great coils rapidly 
unrolling. 

“Now shoot !” exclaimed Mr. Andrews and 
Frank fired both barrels at the wicked-looking 
head. 

With a convulsive movement the great body 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


77 

writhed and twisted for an instant, and then, 
slipping from the tacuba, splashed into the 
stream. 

“You got him!” cried Mr. Andrews; “shot 
his head clean off.” 

With a stroke of their paddles the men 
drove the boat forward to where the anaconda 
was floating, the dead body still twitching, and, 
fastening a rope about it, ran the boat onto 
the bank and dragged the reptile ashore. 

Frank was highly elated at securing the 
creature and, as the men rapidly removed the 
skin, he thought what a splendid trophy it 
would be to exhibit to the boys at home. 

“Eighteen feet and a half,” announced Mr. 
Andrews, who had been measuring the snake. 
“Pretty good size, although I’ve seen them 
nearly twenty-five feet long.” 

“Is that all? I thought he was at least fifty 
feet long,” said Frank, in a disappointed tone. 

Mr. Andrews laughed. “Snakes are decep- 
tive,” he remarked. “If you hadn’t killed and 
measured him no doubt you’d have always de- 
clared he was fifty feet long, especially if you’d 
come upon him unawares in the bush. Always 


78 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


divide a snake’s apparent length by three and 
you’ll be near the mark.” 

“Aren’t they dangerous?” asked Frank, who 
had not as yet fully recovered from his nerv- 
ousness. 

“Not in the least,” replied Mr. Andrews. 
“I never heard of a camudi attacking or in- 
juring a human being. They kill fowls and 
small animals, but the tales of their crushing 
human beings, oxen or other large creatures 
are pure imagination.” 

“Well, he looked dangerous at any rate,” 
declared Frank. “I’d rather have him dead 
than alive.” 

The skin was now sprinkled with salt and 
rolled up, and the trip was resumed. Soon 
afterwards a camping place was found, the 
boat was run ashore and once more Frank 
slept beneath the tarpaulin roof in the wilder- 
ness. 

By noon the next day the last of the rapids 
were passed, and for hour after hour the men 
paddled swiftly up the broad, smooth river, 
which Mr. Andrews stated was unbroken by 
rapids for nearly fifty miles. At one spot they 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


79 


passed a little settlement upon the river’s bank 
and Mr. Andrews told Frank this was Rock- 
stone. “It’s the terminus of a railway across 
the narrow strip between the Demerara and the 
Essequibo,” he said, “and is a point of depar- 
ture for gold miners and balata gatherers. The 
district between here and Wismar on the De- 
merara is a rich greenheart grant and big ships 
and steamers go up the Demerara as far as 
Wismar to load timber.” 

“Why, I thought we were really in the in- 
terior and far from civilisation,” exclaimed 
Frank, in surprise, “and here we are at a regu- 
lar village with a railway station and a hotel, 
and — why, there are launches tied to the bank.” 

“Yes, they run regularly between Rockstone 
and Tumatumari on the Potaro River in a rich 
gold district. It does seem strange to come 
up the falls through such a wild country and 
find this place and the railway and launches, 
but you’ve only had a taste of the wilderness. 
N ot until we pass the mouth of the Potaro can 
you really feel that all civilisation has been left 
behind.” 

That night, camp was made on an island, and 


80 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


the following day they reached Crab Falls. 
These were small rapids and easily overcome, 
and soon afterwards they passed the mouth of 
the Potaro River. 

“Up that stream lie Tumatumari and Kaie- 
teur,” said Mr. Andrews. “On our return I 
hope to make a trip up there to let you see the 
gold mines and the falls. But we’ll have to 
let pleasure wait until our business is over.” 

The land was now much higher, the forests 
were filled with enormous trees, and in the dis- 
tance rose soft blue hills and mountains. The 
air was cool and Frank could scarcely believe 
they were within three hundred miles of the 
equator. 

The next day they met a large canoe filled 
with Indians, and with a queer hut-like struc- 
ture of palm leaves built amidships. They ran 
alongside and discovered that the strangers 
were Waupisana Indians from Brazil who had 
voyaged down from the head waters of the 
Essequibo, and Frank gazed with interest at 
the queer people with their painted cheeks and 
muscular bodies who had come hundreds of 
miles down the wilderness waterway from an- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


81 


other land. They could speak no English and 
little of the Guiana Indians’ dialects, but they 
knew Portuguese and tried their best to carry 
on a conversation in that tongue with Mr. An- 
drews who had picked up a few phrases while 
engaged on the boundary survey. 

Their canoe was laden with beautiful cotton 
hammocks which they were taking to Rock- 
stone to sell, and Frank purchased one of these 
useful articles for what seemed a ridiculously 
low price. 

Several of the women in the canoe were 
busily spinning cotton thread from the raw, 
wild cotton, and Frank was greatly interested 
in the method and admired the deftness with 
which the Indians whirled the rude spindles 
and drew long, smooth threads from the mass 
of fluffy fibre. Mr. Andrews presented them 
with some tobacco and rice, for which they 
were very grateful, and a few minutes later 
they were lost to view behind an island in the 
river. 

Several times during that day the men were 
obliged to haul the boat through rapids and at 
nightfall they made camp at the foot of a roar- 


82 THE GOLDEN CITY 

ing cataract which Mr. Andrews said must be 
portaged. 

It was a laborious and slow job to carry their 
boat and all their baggage around the falls, but 
at last it was accomplished, and ever southward 
into the heart of the continent they paddled on. 


CHAPTER VII 


Day after day the journey continued. The 
surroundings became wilder and often great 
masses of granite reared strange forms above 
the far-reaching forest. At one spot Mr. 
Andrews called Frank’s attention to four huge 
rocks standing upon the summit of a wooded 
hill. The lowest supported the second on three 
points and on top of this was a great jar- 
shaped monolith capped with the topmost slab 
like a cover, and the whole towering for 300 
feet above the foliage at its base. “That’s 
‘Comuti’ or ‘Taquiari,’ ” said Mr. Andrews. 
“The name means a water jar and you’ll read- 
ily notice the resemblance. It’s a famous land- 
mark as is also the ‘Ataroipu’ or Devil’s Rock 
on the banks of the Guidaru River further on, 
and which is a huge bare pyramid 550 feet in 
height.” 

“They look as if they had been built by 

human hands,” remarked Frank. “It seems 

83 


84 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


very strange to see those big rocks sticking up 
from the forest with no other mountains near.” 

“Roraima is much the same, but on a tre- 
mendous scale,” replied Mr. Andrews. “It 
stands up from the greenery like some gigantic 
castle for 8,000 feet.” 

But aside from the scenery Frank found 
plenty to interest him and keep him busy. 
Many Indian villages were visited and he met 
Bucks of tribes he had not before seen, and 
many a hunt was taken with Joseph while Mr. 
Andrews was busy taking measurements of 
timber trees, sketching rough maps or survey- 
ing. 

He had shot peccaries, labba, and even a 
tapir and had regretted that he had no rifle 
when, on several occasions, the boat had passed 
immense crocodiles sunning thmselves on the 
rocks in the stream. 

Scarcely a night passed without hearing the 
scream of a jaguar and Frank longed to add 
one of their great spotted skins to his collec- 
tion of trophies, but despite every effort the 
half-devoured carcass of a deer was the only 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


85 


sign they had been able to find of the presence 
of “tigers.” 

F or two nights they had stopped at a camp 
of balata gatherers. Here Frank had seen 
how the gum of the balata trees was gathered 
and had listened to the camp-fire tales of the 
wild-looking crowd of negroes, half-breeds and 
Indians who penetrated far into the wilder- 
ness in search of the wild rubber. 

They were a rough, hardy crowd; at home 
in the bush, where many of them had spent 
their lives, but were wonderfully superstitious 
and believed thoroughly in mysterious denizens 
of the forest which they called ‘Didoes,’ and 
which many of them professed to have seen. 

When the day’s work was over and they 
gathered about their fires, they vied with one 
another in telling stories of these supernatural 
beings and Frank listened in wonder at their 
tales. No two seemed to agree as to what a 
‘Dido’ was like. Some described them as hairy 
creatures, half monkey, half man; others 
vowed they were naked and had tails, while 
still others thought them headless with eyes in 
their breasts, and one man described how he 


86 


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had been chased by a Dido which had claw-like 
hands and feet with which it swung from 
branch to branch like a monkey. Sometimes 
they varied their stories with narratives of a 
being they called “Kenaima,” and when they 
spoke of this the Indians looked frightened 
and, glancing furtively into the shadows, gath- 
ered closer within the light of the fires. 

The men spoke in such a queer jargon and 
used so many strange words and terms that 
much of their stories was meaningless to 
Frank and he plied Mr. Andrews with ques- 
tions as to the Didoes and the Kenaima. 

“I would not like to say there is no truth in 
the stories of Didoes,” said Mr. Andrews. “The 
tales of wild men of the woods has persisted 
for centuries — it was considered Gospel truth 
by the early explorers, and personally I be- 
lieve there is some foundation for such a uni- 
versal and wide-spread belief. Of course I 
don’t believe in men with tails or with eyes 
in their chests, but there may be a few survivors 
of some unknown race who are very hairy or 
who paint themselves weirdly or, for all we 
know, some unknown species of gigantic mon- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


87 


key or ape may exist in the forests; or again 
some malformed, half-witted Indians may have 
given rise to the belief. Undoubtedly that was 
the case with the two-fingered men with their 
claw-like hands and feet. In fact, it is said 
that such a tribe, — people in which the hands 
and feet are abnormal, — actually lives in the 
vast unexplored district between British and 
Dutch Guiana and that the ‘Trios’ are so 
called because some of them have but three 
fingers on each hand.” 

“I’d like to see a Dido,” declared Frank; 
“but what is the ‘Kenaima’? The Indians 
seemed terribly afraid of it and even Joseph 
became nervous and crossed himself when I 
asked him about it.” 

“Ah! That’s quite another matter,” replied 
Mr. Andrews. “The Kenaima is an actuality, 
although the Indians and Bovianders surround 
it with a great deal of superstition and non- 
sense. The word really means the spirit of 
evil or death, but as used it signifies an avenger 
of blood. If an Indian is killed, or dies under 
suspicious circumstances, some member of his 
family — or a volunteer if he has no relatives — 


88 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


becomes Kenaima, or, in other words, assumes 
the role of avenger and is supposed to become 
imbued with the Kenaima spirit and certain 
supernatural attributes. There are two dis- 
tinct kinds of Kenaima; the Camudi Ken- 
aima, who strangles his victim, and the Tiger 
Kenaima, who must destroy his victim with a 
blow from a peculiar form of wooden club. In 
either case the Kenaima goes through certain 
ceremonies symbolic of leaving all pleasures, 
recreations and ordinary pursuits aside, and 
sets forth alone to track down and destroy his 
victim. It makes no difference how far the 
condemned may travel, how difficult he may 
make his trail or how skilfully he may hide. 
The Kenaima is absolutely relentless and tire- 
less, and for weeks, months, or even years, will 
pursue; overcoming every obstacle, enduring 
the most terrible hardships and privations and 
never visiting or speaking to other men until 
his mission is accomplished. If the intended 
victim of his vengeance succeeds in ambushing 
and killing the Kenaima it avails nothing, for 
the death of the avenger, by some mysterious 
means, is made known to his fellow tribesmen 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


89 


and another Kenaima at once sets forth to 
complete his vengeance. Moreover the Ken- 
aima, if carried out to its full scope, must in- 
clude not only the murderer himself, but all of 
his relatives and, of course, each of these exe- 
cutions calls for a return vengeance of Ken- 
aima and thus entire tribes have been wiped 
out through the bloody custom. But the most 
awful part of the Kenaima’s vengeance is the 
manner in which the actual killing is carried 
out. The avenger must not kill his victim in- 
stantly, but must wound or injure him so that 
he will survive for three days and on the third 
day he must return to the dying man, plunge 
a spear or arrow into his body to end his suf- 
ferings, and must lick the blood from the wea- 
pon. Of course it is a difficult matter for the 
Kenaima to strangle or strike a man in such 
a way as to mortally injure him without kill- 
ing him, and no doubt, as a rule, the victim 
is killed at once and the avenger is satisfied. 
Much has been done by the government to 
stamp out the Kenaima and several Indians 
have been hung, but such measures only re- 
sult in making the Bucks more secretive and 


90 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


I question if much good has been done among 
the more primitive tribes. They consider it 
their right to avenge their dead in their own 
way and they cannot understand why the gov- 
ernment should interfere. Even the Chris- 
tian and civilised Indians are familiar with the 
Kenaima and are in deadly fear of it, as proved 
by Joseph’s terror at the word.” 

“It makes my blood run cold to think of it,” 
declared Frank. “I can imagine how awful it 
must seem to know a Kenaima is tracking you 
down as you describe it. I should think the 
Indians would be terribly afraid of killing one 
another and that murder would be very rare 
when such a vengeance would follow.” 

“When sober they are very law-abiding and 
peaceable,” said Mr. Andrews, “but when 
drunk they are quarrelsome and a heavy pen- 
alty is imposed on any one selling or giving 
them liquor. But it’s impossible to prevent 
them from drinking ‘piwarrie,’ which is a vile 
liquor made by chewing cassava and spitting 
it into a bowl where it is allowed to ferment. 
When they have a piwarrie feast they drink 
gallons of the stuff and have fearful orgies- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


91 


The liquor drives them mad, fights ensue 
and quite often several are killed and a Ken- 
aima is started which destroys scores before 
vengeance is satisfied.” 

“I didn’t dream such things could exist,” de- 
clared Frank. “These Indians seem so peace- 
able and quiet that I can’t imagine them any 
other way. Do they ever attack white men?” 

“I’ve never heard of a case,” replied Mr. 
Andrews, “although I suppose a white man 
might be made the object of a Kenaima if he 
killed an Indian. However, there’s no danger ; 
even when drunk with piwarrie, the Bucks 
will not molest a white man, but it’s a good 
plan to keep clear of them when a piwarrie 
feast is in progress.” 

A few days after they left the balata gath- 
erers’ camp the boat reached the mouth of the 
Rupinuni and, passing within sight of the 
Makarapan Mountains, came to the edge of 
the great savannas which, Mr. Andrews said, 
covered over 15,000 square miles of the coun- 
try. 

Frank had expected to see a vast level, 
grassy plain, but instead he found the savannas 


92 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


undulating and broken by great isolated gran- 
ite rocks, masses of coarse conglomerate, — 
which looked like some giant’s plum pudding 
transformed to stone, and red mounds of clay 
and rotten quartz. Clumps of trees rose here 
and there above the dull coarse grass, in the 
numerous swales and hollows were marshy, 
boggy spots covered with a rank growth of 
palms, ferns and spiny plants. The hard- 
stemmed weeds and coarse, wiry sedge, which 
looked so smooth and soft at a distance, made 
walking very difficult, save in the narrow paths 
made by the semi-wild cattle and the game 
which wandered over the country at will. 

Far in the distance loomed great squarish 
mountains, like blue islands in a sea of yellow- 
ish green, and these Mr. Andrews told Frank 
were the Kanuku Mountains on the border of 
Brazil. 

There was an Indian village near where the 
party camped, and Frank found these people 
very different from the forest Indians along 
the rivers. They were Macushis, Mr. Andrews 
said, and were naked save for the bead aprons 
worn by the women and laps worn by the men. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


93 


and were far uglier and had coarser features 
than the Arekunas or Akawaias. Many of 
them had little skewers of bone or wood in- 
serted through holes in their lower lips and 
one man, who seemed to be a sort of chief and 
who Mr. Andrews said was a Piaiman or 
Medicine Man, had the queer ornament re- 
placed by a number of common pins. He was 
evidently very proud of these and Frank 
watched him, fascinated, as he deftly slipped 
the pins out and in the opening in his lip by 
means of his tongue. Unlike the river Indians 
these savanna people had houses built in cir- 
cular form and with walled sides of mud and 
wattles, and Frank found them most stuffy and 
unpleasant. 

But the Macushis seemed a very friendly and 
good natured lot and, when Joseph mentioned 
Frank’s skill with the gun and the fact that 
he wished to secure a “tiger,” one of the Ma- 
cushis volunteered to lead him to a spot where 
he could kill a jaguar. 

Frank was elated at the prospect and at day- 
light the three set out, the Macushi armed with 
an ancient muzzle-loading gun, Joseph with 


94 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


his deadly blowgun, with which he expected to 
secure some wild fowl, and Frank ready for 
anything. 

For some distance they followed the narrow, 
winding trail and then, climbing a little rocky 
knoll, came to a large swale or hollow filled 
with a tangled jungle. 

This, the Macushi declared, was the lair of a 
large jaguar which had repeatedly carried off 
livestock from the village and which he stated 
had been shot at time and again without avail. 

The thicket was very dense and was threaded 
by a labyrinth of runways and paths, and the 
three hunters were forced to crawl on all fours 
in many places. Frank scarcely fancied com- 
ing face to face with a jaguar in such a place 
but the Indians appeared to have little dread 
of the creature and intently followed the im- 
prints of the great cat’s feet which Frank was 
unable to distinguish from the various other 
trails. 

F or an hour or more they crawled back and 
forth through the miniature jungle, and Frank 
had nearly given up hopes of even seeing the 
jaguar, when the Macushi suddenly levelled his 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


95 


gun and fired into the thicket ahead. At the 
report there was a tremendous bellow and from 
his cool and shady resting place a gaunt, dun- 
coloured steer rose up and plunged crashing 
through the brush. 

Frank burst into a roar of laughter; the Ma- 
cushi assumed a most surprised and crestfallen 
look, and Joseph tersely remarked: 

“Me tellum all same fool. Macushi no 
sabby cow.” 

There seemed little chance of finding a 
jaguar where a wild steer had found a com- 
fortable resting place, and the noise of the shot 
and their voices would have certainly fright- 
ened any jaguar which might have been lurk- 
ing in the vicinity, and so, abandoning their 
hunt, the three commenced to make their way 
out of the jungle, the while taking no care to 
move silently, and paying little heed to the 
surroundings. 

Presently they came to a little open space 
breast high with coarse grass, and, as they 
pushed their way through, there was a sudden 
commotion in the grass before them, a loud 
ominous growl and a magnificent jaguar 


96 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


sprang from the sedge and bounded into the 
tangled thicket. Its appearance was so abso- 
lutely unexpected that Frank stood dumb- 
founded until the creature was almost out of 
sight, when he fired both barrels of his gun at 
the disappearing form. 

A savage snarl answered, and hurrying into 
the brush, the Indians soon found blood drops 
on the ground, but the jaguar was nowhere to 
be seen, and though they searched for hours, 
the hunters at last gave up in despair, and hot, 
tired and torn made their way back to the 
village. 

Mr. Andrews’ work was now completed, 
and having secured a plentiful supply of pro- 
visions from the Macushis, the party bade 
good-bye to the savanna village and headed 
down stream towards the Essequibo. 

The river was very low and the men found 
difficulty in getting the boat over the rocks 
and ledges which were exposed in the chan- 
nels. Mr. Andrews showed Frank the high- 
water mark of the river on the rocks and 
shores, and which in many places was ten or 
fifteen feet above its present level. He ex- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


97 


plained how the rivers rose suddenly during 
the rainy season, how mere rills increased to 
foaming torrents in a few hours and how the 
water, rising far above the banks, flooded vast 
areas of the forest and savannas, and enabled 
boats to navigate for many miles and to tra- 
verse the country from river to river. 

“It’s possible to go by boat from George- 
town to the Amazon or the Orinoco,” he said. 
“Even when there are no floods there are 
creeks or canals which connect the various riv- 
ers. Thus the upper waters of the Rupinuni 
and Essequibo approach so closely to the head- 
waters of the Rio Negro and the branches of 
the Orinoco that the Indians can pass from one 
to the other in their canoes, as did those we met 
near the mouth of the Potaro. If it were not 
for the rapids and cataracts, good sized boats 
could go up the Amazon or Orinoco and down 
the Guiana streams, or vice versa, during sea- 
sons of high water. So, too, the headwaters of 
the Rupinuni and the Kuyuwini, which is a 
branch of the Essequibo, rise within four or 
five miles of each other and the Takutu, which 
is a branch of the Amazon and which forms a 


98 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


portion of the Brazilian boundary, rises be- 
tween the two and the three are connected by 
itabus or canals. On the other side the Ma- 
taruki, which is a branch of the Essequibo, 
rises almost in the same spot as the N ew River, 
which flows into the Courantyne, and, so you 
see, during the rainy season British Guiana is 
really surrounded by water and becomes an 
island.” 

“Then that unknown district you spoke of 
must lie right to the east of where we are now,” 
said Frank, who was busily studying his map, 
“and by going up to the Mataruki and down 
the New River one could go right around it.” 

“The unexplored region lies a little further 
south than we are at present,” replied Mr. An- 
drews, “but practically nothing is known of 
any of the country from the Makari Moun- 
tains to the source of the New River, between 
the Essequibo and the Courantyne. I’ve a lit- 
tle surprise for you which I hadn’t mentioned 
before, as I was not sure we would have time 
to attempt it. I’m going to try to penetrate a 
little way into that very district on this trip.” 

“Hurrah!” cried Frank. “That will be 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


99 


splendid. Just to think of going into real un- 
explored country. Why we can’t tell what we 
may find. Where are we going in? Do tell 
me all about your plans, Mr. Andrews.” 

The other smiled at the boy’s enthusiasm. 
“Very well,” he replied, as he spread out the 
government maps. “Here’s where we are 
now — close to this spot marked ‘Primos In- 
let.’ I hope to be able to make our way up 
stream past the first or Murray’s Cataract, and 
if possible around King William Fourth’s Cat- 
aract, to Great Fall. There we’ll leave the 
boat and strike east into the interior. The Ma- 
cushis told me there is an Indian village near 
the river — Tarumas, they say — where I can 
secure supplies, carriers and guides. I hope to 
obtain some data in regard to the mountain 
range which stretches across the colony, as well 
as to have a look at the surrounding country. 
There is a scheme to run a railway through to 
Brazil from Georgetown, and it may be pos- 
sible that a better route exists to the east of 
the Essequibo than to the west. I do not ex- 
pect to make an extended trip or to do much 
survey work, but if it looks promising I shall 


100 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


return with a larger party and proper equip- 
ment. Don’t count too much on our little ex- 
ploring trip — I’m afraid it will prove very dull 
and there’ll be little new or strange to be seen. 
You’ll find it tiresome tramping, after travel- 
ling so long by boat, and I should hesitate 
about letting you undertake the trip if you 
hadn’t proved yourself such a good bushman 
and so willing to rough it.” 

“Oh, I don’t call anything we’ve done yet 
really roughing it,” declared Frank. “We’ve 
just had an easy time, sitting here in the boat, 
and I haven’t tramped enough to keep my legs 
from getting stiff. I’ll find plenty to interest 
me on the trip into the bush, and I don’t think 
I’ll get tired, — I’m used to tramping at home. 
Even if we don’t find anything new or strange 
it will be fine to be able to tell the fellows I’ve 
really been in unexplored forests. Do you 
think I may get a jaguar?” 

“I can’t say as to that,” replied Mr. An- 
drews. “Would you believe it? You’ve already 
seen more jaguars on this trip than I’ve seen 
in all the years I’ve spent in the Guiana bush. 
A few tracks and their screams are the only 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


101 


‘symptoms’ of tigers I’ve ever seen or heard, 
while you’ve actually seen and shot at one. 
The beasts are common enough, but they’re 
very wary, and it’s next to impossible to secure 
them without dogs trained for the purpose.” 

“Well, I suppose I ought to be more than 
satisfied with what I have done,” remarked 
Frank. “Mighty few boys have ever had such 
a trip.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


So far the trip had been all that Frank had 
pictured. He had thrilled at the skill and dar- 
ing of the Indians as they swam through the 
turmoil of the rapids and, rope in teeth, had 
gained foothold on the slippery submerged 
rocks. He had cheered and shouted with the 
others as, pitting their strength against the 
raging current, they had hauled the heavy boat 
by inches up the angry current. He had 
watched with bated breath as the boat hung 
motionless in the grip of whirlpools, while the 
eight men strove with might and main to drive 
it forward to safety and their paddles bent to 
the strain, and time and again he had been 
ready to leap from the craft and seek safety in 
swimming the foaming flood as the craft 
grounded on submerged rocks and the hissing 
waters poured over its gunwales. 

In Indian benabs and under tarpaulins be- 
neath the trees he had slept in his hammock, 
102 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


103 


while from the depths of the jungle the screams 
of jaguars had sent shivers down his spine, and 
vampires squeaked in the shadows of the for- 
est, and day after day he had waked to the 
weird and awful cries of the howling monkeys. 

He had visited Indians living as, did their 
forefathers, ere white men ever saw Guiana’s 
shores, and had watched them preparing cas- 
sava, weaving hammocks and dancing their 
strange dances whilst clad in nodding feather 
crowns and gorgeous mantles of plumes. He 
had hunted with them in the dark forest 
depths, had seen them call and shoot the great 
river fish with their long arrows, and had stood 
beside them as, with tiny poisoned darts and 
blowguns, they killed powis and macaws in the 
topmost branches of the trees. 

Peccary, labba, tapir, deer and ocelot had 
fallen to his gun, and wonderfully proud he 
felt as he looked at the many trophies of the 
chase which he had won. 

He had seen many a strange sight, had 
tramped many a mile of primeval forest and 
had learned much of woodcraft and of track- 
ing game. He had learned to recognise the 


104 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


various trees and plants; knew the calls of 
the wild birds and their Indian names, and 
under Joseph’s tutelage had become “Bush- 
man all same Buck,” as the Indian declared. 

He had grown brown and strong, had kept 
in perfect health, and had come to love the vast 
mysterious forests, the great majestic rivers, 
the tumbling cataracts and the quiet hospitable 
Indians. But the adventures he had hoped for 
had not been met, the perils of the falls and 
rapids had been overcome so readily and so 
safely that he scarce realised their danger, and 
he had acquired a vast contempt for the sav- 
age beasts and reptiles of which he had read 
such wild tales, but which invariably sought 
only to keep away from the human invaders 
of their haunts. But now that Mr. Andrews 
told of his plan to enter the unexplored wilder- 
ness to the east, Frank thrilled with hope of 
adventures yet to come. What might they 
not find in the unknown! What dangers and 
perils might they not have to face! What 
secrets might they not wrest from their hiding 
place in this land which no white man had ever 
seen! Frank was all impatience to leave the 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


105 


river and strike into the bush ; the boat seemed 
to travel all too slowly, and he grudged the 
hours of weary toil as the boat and its cargo 
were portaged around cataract after cataract. 

At last the Great Falls roared close at hand, 
camp was made and Mr. Andrews and the 
captain busied themselves assorting the bag- 
gage and supplies to carry into the bush, and, 
dividing it into portions which could be car- 
ried on Indians’ backs. 

The next morning an early start was made 
for the Taruma village, and leaving six men 
in charge of the boat, Mr. Andrews, Frank, 
the captain, and Joseph plunged into the for- 
est along a faint trail which followed the gen- 
eral course of the river, and which, the Indians 
averred, led to the village they sought. 

The country was rough and broken, great 
rocks were piled about as if thrown into the 
bush by some giant’s hand, and walking was 
difficult. By noon, however, they had passed 
the worst of the rocky country, their way led 
over rolling hills clothed with more open for- 
est, and late in the afternoon they reached the 
edge of the jungle and looked forth upon a 


106 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


far-stretching savanna broken by clumps of 
trees and thickets, fantastic rock masses and 
marshy swales, and with a large Indian village 
in plain view. 

It was a peaceful, lovely scene; the bright 
sunlight, blue sky and fresh sweeping breeze 
were wonderfully welcome after the sunless 
depth of the dank and shadowy forest, and 
Frank felt a strange desire to shout and run 
madly through the grass that seemed so 
smooth and soft from where he stood. But as 
they hurried forward and gained the edge of 
the savanna, he realised how futile it would be 
to attempt such a feat, for the grass was tan- 
gled and wiry, the ground was far from level 
and the village, which had appeared so near 
when first seen, was now quite hidden from 
sight. The Indians’ keen eyes had’ already 
noted the track which led to the village, how- 
ever, and unhesitatingly led the way, and ere 
sunset the little party came to the mud-walled, 
thatched houses of the Tarumas. 

Even more primitive than the Macushis 
were these people, and much to Frank’s sur- 
prise, many of the men had coarse black 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


107 


beards, which gave them a very savage and 
wild appearance, which was heightened by de- 
signs in black, white, and red painted upon 
their faces. 

But their looks belied them; they welcomed 
the strangers cordially; they brought forth 
food to eat and conducted the visitors to a va- 
cant hut wherein to pass the night. 

Mr. Andrews presented them with tobacco, 
beads and some bright blue cloth, and then, by 
the aid of the captain as interpreter — for the 
Tarumas spoke very little English or talky- 
talky — he stated his business and asked for 
carriers and guides. 

The Tarumas appeared to hesitate and dis- 
cussed the matter for some moments among 
themselves before the chief replied to Mr. An- 
drews. 

“There was,” he said, “another village at the 
farther side of the savanna — a village of 
the Pianoghottos — three days’ march away. 
Gladly would his young men guide the travel- 
lers to that village, and women would carry the 
white men’s loads, but beyond there they knew 
nothing. They were Indians of the savannas 


108 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


— the Tarumas — and had never penetrated the 
forests beyond. It was too dangerous — a land 
peopled by Didoes and Horis ( devils ) . Once, 
years before — when he, the chief, was a young 
man — a party of his people had entered that 
wilderness and had never returned, and ever 
since then the Tarumas had kept to their own 
savannas. Did the Pianoghottos know the 
forest beyond? How could he tell? They too 
were people of the savanna, but they lived near 
the forest, and no doubt knew more of it than 
the Tarumas — perchance their Piaiman had 
charms that kept the evil spirits away.” 

With this Mr. Andrews was obliged to be 
satisfied. The Tarumas evidently had no 
knowledge of the interior beyond the limits 
of the savanna, and with the hope that the 
Pianoghottos would serve him better, he made 
arrangements for carriers to go to the boat 
the following morning and return with the 
loads he had laid out. 

When Frank came forth from his hut the 
next day, the carriers had departed for the boat 
and when, late in the afternon, they returned, 
Frank marvelled at the ease with which the 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


109 


women carried their heavy burdens in open, 
wickerwork baskets or “surianas,” secured by 
broad bands across their foreheads. 

At dawn the little expedition left the Ta- 
ruma village behind and started across the 
savanna towards the distant Pianoghotto set- 
tlement and the unknown. 

A young Tarmna led the way as guide, be- 
hind him in single file marched the captain, Mr. 
Andrews, Frank, and Joseph, and bringing 
up in the rear were the six Taruma women 
with their heavily-ladened surianas, in which 
were packed all the supplies, provisions and 
baggage for the trip. 

It was a long and dreary march across the 
great savanna. The sun beat down relent- 
lessly from a cloudless sky; from the flowers 
of the coarse grass and weeds showers of pol- 
len were dislodged and filled eyes and nostrils 
and caused parched, dry throats and intense 
thirst, and Frank longed for the cool shade and 
moist air of the forests ere the first day’s trip 
was done. He could not understand how the 
Indians could prefer the savanna to the bush 
as a dwelling place, and never ceased to won- 


110 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


der at the patient women who bore the heavy 
burdens and plodded steadily along for hour 
after hour, their naked skins and bare heads 
exposed to the burning sun; and yet they 
seemed not to mind this labor in the least, but 
chatted and laughed among themselves as if 
on a mere pleasure jaunt. 

Mr. Andrews assured him they consid- 
ered this easy work, that in their every day life 
they carried far heavier loads, and that they 
were so accustomed to the blazing sunlight and 
the open savanna that they were perfectly 
comfortable. 

Camp was made in a sheltered swale, the 
Indians quickly erecting little huts of Etah 
palm and canes, and, as soon as the sun sank, 
Frank saw why shelters were required, for 
with the darkness came a cold night wind that 
chilled the white men to the bone, while the In- 
dians shivered over their camp fires. Frank 
was surprised at this sudden change in tem- 
perature, but Mr. Andrews explained that 
they were really some 500 feet above sea level, 
and thus in a climate such as might be expected 
on the summit of a mountain. With the 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


111 


blankets they had provided, the travellers slept 
comfortably, however, and by sunrise were 
once more on the march. Little game was 
seen, but Frank succeeded in killing several 
big snipe-like birds as large as fowls and a 
number of plover, and these formed a most 
welcome addition to the cassava cakes, buc- 
caned powis, yams and plantains which had 
been secured at the Taruma village. 

The second day was but a repetition of the 
first, but on the third the savanna became 
fresher and greener, little ponds or pools were 
passed, and in the afternoon they reached some 
open spaces where the grass had been burned 
away and vegetables were growing. By these 
signs they knew they were approaching the 
village they sought, and just before sundown 
they came to a large cleared space with a num- 
ber of houses in the centre. 

The Pianoghottos gathered about the 
strangers and gazed at them with the greatest 
curiosity, for many of them had never seen 
a white man before, and Frank was elated to 
discover that he and Mr. Andrews were the 


112 THE GOLDEN CITY 

first white people who had ever visited the vil- 
lage. 

The Indians were as hospitable as the oth- 
ers they had met, but when Mr. Andrews re- 
quested guides and carriers to accompany his 
party into the forest, which commenced a mile 
or so beyond the village, they seemed as loth 
as the Tarumas to enter the unknown wilder- 
ness. 

Like the others they declared ’twas the 
abode of Horis and Didoes, and only after a 
long argument, and by the liberal bestowal of 
beads, cloth, tobacco, and other trade goods, 
did Mr. Andrews succeed in persuading three 
men to go with him. One of these was half 
Acuria, and he stated that his father’s people 
had a village on the southeastern edge of the 
savanna and that the Acurias were forest peo- 
ple. Nothing would induce the Tarumas to 
go further, and as no carriers could be hired 
and as it was useless to attempt to transport all 
the supplies with so few men, Mr. Andrews 
selected such things as he deemed absolutely 
necessary and regretfully sent the rest back to 
the boat by the returning Taruma women. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


113 


Even the three Pianoghotto men grumbled 
at being obliged to carry loads, complaining 
that it was women’s work, and, to lighten their 
burdens and ease their consciences, Joseph and 
the captain consented to carry a portion of the 
loads. 

Mr. Andrews and Frank were both greatly 
disappointed at not being able to secure In- 
dians to go into the unknown forest to the east, 
and the more the Bucks talked of the dangers 
and the evil spirits, and the greater of their 
dread of the forest, the more anxious were the 
two explorers to penetrate the district, for the 
natives’ superstitious fear was proof that even 
they had never been through this country be- 
tween the upper Essequibo and the New River. 

Moreover, by sending back some of their 
supplies, the length of their trip was shortened, 
and both Mr. Andrews and Frank feared that 
they would be compelled to return to the boat 
long before they had accomplished anything 
worth while. But despite the difficulties they 
had encountered, Mr. Andrews was still hope- 
ful of obtaining guides at the Acuria village, 
and towards this the party made its way. 


114 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


As they proceeded southeastward towards 
the savanna’s edge, Mr. Andrews took copious 
notes and bearings and examined the occasion- 
al rocks, the vegetation and the soil with care. 
Once, as they stopped to rest, the Acuria man 
noticed Mr. Andrews, as he picked up and 
cracked open bits of reddish rocks and peb- 
bles, and watched him with apparent interest. 
Then, turning to Joseph, he spoke a few words 
in Indian dialect. 

“He tellum plenty rockstone like so top side 
Acuria way,” the latter translated. “Plenty 
rockstone all same caracuri.” 

Mr. Andrews grew interested at once. “I 
wonder what he means by ‘caracuri,’ he re- 
marked to Frank. “That’s the Indian word 
for gold, but it also means red or yellow, like 
gold. It was that double meaning of the word 
which led Raleigh and the old discoverers after 
the fabled city of Manoa and El Dorado — they 
thought the natives meant gold, when no doubt 
they merely meant red or golden earth or clay. 
But there are signs of auriferous rocks here- 
about, — perhaps after all the fellow really 


THE GOLDEN CITY 115 

means gold. It may be well worth looking 
into.” 

Addressing Joseph, he spoke to him in 
talky-talky : “Me tellum what side he catchum 
rockstone like so? How can tell he gotum all 
same? Tellum how long makeum walk top- 
side, come back Acuria side?” 

Joseph spoke rapidly to the Acuria, who 
replied at length: 

“He tellum one feller Acuria, same way 
Piaiman, catchum plenty like so,” interpreted 
Joseph. “Piaiman makeum walk topside 
bush. Same feller no ’fraid Hori, no ’fraid 
Dido. He good friend Devil, makeum fire all 
same rockstone one kind ; makeum ring, make- 
um bead all same caracuri other feller rock- 
stone. Acuria man he tellum no sabby where 
findum. Mebbe Piaiman feller he tellum.” 

“What do you suppose he’s driving at?” 
asked Frank. “What does he mean by the 
Piaiman making fire from one rock and gold 
rings and beads from another?” 

“I’m sure I don’t know,” replied Mr. An- 
drews as the party again resumed its way, 
“but I suspect the old medicine man has ob- 


116 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


tained native iron from some deposit known 
only to himself and has discovered he can 
strike fire with it like steel. Such a feat would 
no doubt impress his tribe with his powers and 
friendship with the ‘devils.’ I expect the 
‘gold’ rings and beads are merely some red or 
yellow stone or hard clay. But we’ll find out 
when we reach the village.” 

“I don’t believe you’ve the least bit of imag- 
ination or romance in your make-up,” laughed 
Frank. “You’re terribly practical and mat- 
ter of fact. Now I believe the Acuria Piai- 
man really knows where there is a gold mine — 
perhaps he started the stories of the Didoes 
just to keep the Indians from following him. 
Wouldn’t it be fine if we could discover it?” 

“It wouldn’t do you much good,” declared 
Mr. Andrews, smiling at the boy’s enthusias- 
tic optimism. “It would cost more to get ma- 
chinery up here and the gold out than ’twas 
worth — that is, until a railroad is put through ; 
we’re about two hundred miles from nowhere. 
But after all you may be right. One never 
can tell ; perhaps, as you say, the Piaiman has 


THE GOLDEN CITY 117 

a gold mine hidden in the forest — they’re sly 
old rascals.” 

For four days they tramped onward; wild 
fowl were abundant and helped greatly to eke 
out the slender supply of provisions, and each 
night they drew nearer and nearer to the 
forest. 

On the fourth day they reached a good-sized 
stream, and Mr. Andrews uttered an exclama- 
tion of surprise as they came to its bank. 

“Do you see anything strange about this 
creek?” he asked Frank. 

“Why, no,” replied the other, after looking 
intently at the little waterway. “It isn’t brown 
like the others, but I suppose that’s because it 
doesn’t flow through the woods. What do you 
see that’s so queer?” 

“It flows to the east,” replied Mr. Andrews. 
“It must be a tributary of the New River or 
the Berbice; we must have crossed a divide 
that separates the Essequibo from the Berbice 
valley, unless the stream swings around to the 
west again.” 

Calling Joseph he asked him to enquire of 
the Acuria as to the course of the stream. The 


118 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


Indian could tell him little, however, and stated 
that he knew only that the creek rose in a low, 
swampy spot to the northwest and that it ran 
across the savanna and disappeared in the for- 
est to the east and south. But even this slight 
information was enough to confirm Mr. An- 
drews’ suspicions, and he noted the location of 
the new stream on the rough map he was mak- 
ing of the district. 

“Hurrah! We’ve discovered a new river,” 
exclaimed Frank as Mr. Andrews completed 
his rough sketch, and the party proceeded to 
wade the stream. “We’re the first white men 
to cross this and I feel like Balboa discovering 
the Pacific. What will we name it, Mr. An- 
drews?” 

“I’ll name it Ellis River,” laughed Mr. An- 
drews. “It’s hardly a ‘river’ perhaps, but it 
probably increases in size, and we can let it go 
at that.” Frank was vastly proud at having a 
stream named after him, and was in high spirits 
as they tramped onward towards the forest, 
which now was but a few miles distant. Soon 
the Acuria broke into a dog trot, declaring that 
the village of his people was just ahead, and 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


119 


the others hurried after him. Sure enough, 
within the hour the little cluster of huts was 
reached, and at sight of the strangers the 
naked women and children scurried into hiding, 
and even the men kept aloof and seemed sus- 
picious of the newcomers. But at some words 
of reassurance from the Acuria guide the vil- 
lagers gained confidence and welcomed the 
travellers, though still gazing at them with the 
most intense curiosity. 

As the Acurias gathered about Frank 
grasped Mr. Andrews’ arm. “Look there,” 
he cried, “these Indians have got gold orna- 
ments. Now will you believe?” 

“You’re rightj,” exclaimed Mr. Andrews, 
“there’s no question about it. But that doesn’t 

prove For heaven’s sake, Frank, look at 

that buck!” His tone was as excited as his 
young companion’s. “He’s wearing a ‘gold 
moon !’ And there’s another with one. Frank, 
my boy, am I seeing things ? Why those orna- 
ments were the very things that Raleigh de- 
scribed, and which no one has ever seen since. 
What on earth have we run onto here?” 


CHAPTER IX 


At this instant a strange figure pushed his 
way through the little circle of Indians. He 
was old and wrinkled, with an enormous bead 
and fat paunch, and his face and body were 
decorated with a maze of lines, squares and 
circles in red, black, white, and yellow. On his 
head he wore a magnificent feather crown, and 
to the fringe of strings that hung from it down 
his back, were fastened a score of skins of the 
rare Cock of the Rock. About his neck and 
shoulders were string after string of teeth, 
claws, rattling seeds and iridescent beetle 
wings. In one hand he bore a stout staff dec- 
orated with gay feathers, tufts of fur and fes- 
toons of seeds, and in the other hand he car- 
ried a huge calabash rattle. 

Frank and Mr. Andrews at once knew him 
for the Piaiman, and Frank’s eyes were round 
with wonder as he gazed at the old medicine 

man, for not only did he wear a full half-dozen 
120 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


121 


of the strange golden moons, but about his 
arms and ankles were strings of great, dull- 
yellow nuggets of virgin gold. 

“He’s a regular walking gold mine,” ex- 
claimed the excited boy. 

“Yes, a living El Dorado,” agreed Mr. An- 
drews. “There must be a wonderfully rich 
placer somewhere near here.” 

With strange gestures and weird grimaces 
the old fellow approached the two white men, 
banging his staff upon the ground, shaking his 
rattle and jabbering away in his native dialect. 
Mr. Andrews directed Joseph to ask the medi- 
cine man what he wanted and to tell him that 
the visitors brought presents for him and his 
people. 

The Piaiman listened attentively as Mr. An- 
drews spoke and burst into a peal of cackling 
laughter. Then, to the utmost surprise of 
Frank and Mr. Andrews he began to speak in 
talky-talky. 

“Tellum plenty good feller,” he exclaimed, 
“me likeum same way. Me tellum what want- 
urn can do. Me tellum Piaiman all same good 
friend.” 


122 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


The Piaiman held forth his claw-like hand 
and Mr. Andrews and Frank shook hands 
with him gravely. 

“We good friend, all same Buckman, ,, re- 
plied Mr. Andrews. “Acuria plenty good 
feller. Me tellum what wantum bimeby. 
How Piaiman catchum sabby talky-talky?” 

Instantly the Indian’s expression changed 
and a cunning leer swept over his features. 

“Piaiman sabby all thing. No makeum 
catchum like so,” he replied. “S’pose wantum 
rain, me tellum, can come. S’pose wantum 
fire, can catchum. Me tellum make, look so.” 

“Isn’t he the old fakir,” whispered Frank 
as the Piaiman fumbled in a leather pouch at 
his side. “Imagine him trying to make us 
believe he knows talky-talky by sorcery and 
can bring rain when he chooses.” 

“Well, we’re going to see him make fire at 
any rate,” said Mr. Andrews. “But I’m going 
to give him a ‘jolt’ as you Americans say.” 

The Piaiman had now drawn forth a bit 
of rock and a lump of dull-greyish metal from 
his pouch and placing a bit of the tinder on 
the pebble he struck it with the metal and a 


THE GOLDEN CITY 123 

shower of sparks flew off and the tinder caught 
fire. 

A sigh-like murmur of wonder and admira- 
tion went up from the assembled Indians, and 
the Piaiman looked at the strangers as much 
as to say, “Beat that if you can.” 

Mr. Andrews nudged Frank. “That’s a me- 
teorite he’s using,” he whispered, “but I’d like 
to know where he learned the trick. I’ll bet the 
old rascal’s lived among white men.” Then, 
drawing a box of matches from his pocket, he 
addressed the Piaiman : 

“Tellum sabby catchum fire plenty same 
way,” he said. “How you like catchum so?” 
As he spoke he struck a match and held it up 
for all to see. 

He had expected a look of wonder on the 
Indians’ faces, but they showed no sign of in- 
terest or surprise, and the old medicine man 
again cackled with glee. 

“Acuria gotum plenty like so,” he ex- 
claimed, and from his pouch produced a box 
of safety matches. 

“Well of all things!” cried Frank. “These 


124 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


people have matches, but they think flint and 
steel is magic.” 

“I wonder if this will surprise them,” re- 
marked Mr. Andrews, and taking a magnify- 
ing glass from his pocket, he held it up in 
plain view of all, and then, stooping, focussed 
it on a few wisps of dried grass and leaves. 
The Piaiman and his companions watched the 
operation intently, and as the dry material 
smoked and burst into flame they uttered a 
cry of the most intense surprise and wonder. 

“I thought that would offset his magic 
stone,” laughed Mr. Andrews as he slipped the 
lens into his pocket. “I’ll wager the old Piai- 
man will give all he knows to get that lens.” 

There was no doubt that the medicine man 
coveted the lens and was trying to ingratiate 
himself with the strangers who could work 
such marvellous magic. He looked with long- 
ing and envy at Mr. Andrews, and could 
scarcely take his little bead-like eyes from the 
pocket which held the burning glass. He 
fawned about the white men, constantly mut- 
tered complimentary and flattering expres- 
sions in Acuria and talky-talky, and with 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


125 


many protestations of friendship, led the trav- 
ellers to a large, well-built hut, where he bade 
them consider themselves at home. Food was 
brought, the Indians gathered about and Mr. 
Andrews distributed gifts. Although the 
Acurias seemed very primitive and, with the 
exception of the Piaiman, had evidently never 
seen white people before, yet they were not 
without certain products of civilisation. They 
wore cloth laps and bead queyus, their arrows 
were iron-tipped, several men carried mache- 
tes, a steel hoe rested against one of the huts, 
several iron pots and some cracked porcelain 
dishes were scattered about, and Mr. Andrews 
and Frank had ample proof that they were 
familiar with matches. 

This puzzled Frank, but Mr. Andrews ex- 
plained that these articles had no doubt been 
acquired through other Indian tribes who dealt 
with the outlying settlements, and he related 
a story of another isolated village he had once 
discovered and in which the people, still in the 
stone age in most ways, possessed breech-load- 
ing guns. 

Judging by the shouts of delight at the 


126 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


trade goods, the products of civilisation were 
at a great premium in the Acuria village and, 
every one being in great good humour over 
their gifts, Mr. Andrews now proceeded to 
state his wants. 

When he had finished the old Piaiman spoke, 
and in his talky-talky informed Mr. Andrews 
that to enter the forest more than a short dis- 
tance was not to be thought of. Through it, 
he said, there ran a river and beyond the 
stream no man might go for ’twas the abode of 
Horis and devils. If the white man wished 
to go as far as the river, very well; the Acurias 
would guide him, but beyond that, no; and he 
then enquired innocently why they wished to 
go into the forest and what they sought. 

Mr. Andrews and Frank were greatly inter- 
ested in the man’s statement about the forest. 
“I wonder what river that is?” whispered 
Frank. 

“It’s hard to say,” replied Mr. Andrews. 
“He says it’s five days’ walk, but that doesn’t 
mean much. It may be the Berbice or the New 
River, or it may be the stream we crossed on 
the savanna or some other creek.” 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


127 


Speaking to the Piaiman, he enquired the 
size and direction of the river, and asked where 
it flowed. 

But the Indian could not, or would not, give 
very definite information. “The river was 
swift,” he said; it was “not too wide” and 
might be crossed if the devils beyond did not 
prevent, and it flowed through a “hole in the 
ground,” so tradition said, and then, once 
more, he asked suspiciously what the white 
man sought in the forest. 

Mr. Andrews assured him they wanted noth- 
ing, save to explore the forest and map the 
river, and he spent a long time trying to ex- 
plain the maps which he showed to the old Piai- 
man and striving to make clear the importance 
of tracing the rivers and exploring the country. 

But the medicine man was still suspicious. 
“I’ll bet he thinks we’re after his secret gold 
mine,” whispered Frank. “I wonder which 
side of the river that’s on ?” 

“I’m going to spring that question pres- 
ently,” replied Mr. Andrews, and turning to 
the Indian he asked how it was that if the 


128 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


woods were full of devils lie, the Piaiman* 
could go there in safety. 

The wily savage looked uncomfortable, and 
strove to evade a direct reply by enquiring 
why the white man thought he had ever been 
beyond the mysterious river. 

Mr. Andrews leaned forward and touched 
the circlet of nuggets about the Indian’s 
ankles, and pointing to the pouch which con- 
tained the meteorite, looked fixedly into the 
other’s eyes. 

“Me tellum catchum rockstone like so; 
catchum caracuri topside river,” he declared 
in positive tones. 

The Piaiman looked furtively about, moved 
uneasily and hesitated and then, as if realising 
he could no longer deceive the white man, he 
vowed he was friendly with the “devils”; that 
he possessed charms which made them power- 
less for harm and, to cap the climax, offered to 
accompany the strangers to the spot where he 
obtained the gold and iron in exchange for the 
“piai moon” that made fire. 

Mr. Andrews and Frank were elated. They 
were confident now that the crafty medicine 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


129 


man knew there was nothing to fear in the 
forest ; that he encouraged the superstitions of 
his people for his own purposes, and that in 
his eyes the burning glass was of greater value 
than the gold or other secrets beyond the river, 
for doubtless the magic of these things had be- 
gun to wane, and he was becoming hard put to 
it to produce new proofs of his supernatural 
powers. 

Mr. Andrews was for setting out at dawn 
the next day, but the Piaiman would hear noth- 
ing of this plan. He insisted that there must 
be time for preparation, that the people must 
feast, that they must celebrate the visit of the 
white men and the riches they had acquired, and 
that to start without doing this would surely 
result in ill luck or worse. 

It was useless to argue or coax, the Piaiman 
was obdurate, and fearing he would repent of 
his bargain if they showed too great impa- 
tience, Mr. Andrews finally consented to the 
delay. 

At nightfall the celebration commenced, and 
the Acurias, dressed in their feather crowns; 
their faces and bodies painted; mantles of 


130 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


plumes about shoulders and loins, and armed 
with dance-sticks, pranced and cavorted to the 
fitful glare of huge bonfires. It was a weird, 
strange spectacle, and Frank, watching it with 
interest, could scarce believe he was still in 
British Guiana, and that but 300 miles distant 
was the modern city with its trolley cars, auto- 
mobiles and motion-picture theatres. 

But the Indians, savage as they appeared, 
were good-natured, happy and full of fun, and 
presently insisted upon their white visitors 
joining in the revels. Mr. Andrews, knowing 
it would please them to do so, donned feather 
crown and seized a dance stick and was soon 
shouting and prancing with the best of them, 
and Frank, somewhat shy at first, at last joined 
in the queer performance. 

Soon every one was taking part; the Piano- 
ghottos, Joseph and the captain included, and 
Frank roared with laughter at the funny cap- 
ers cut by the Piaiman who, old and wrinkled 
as he was, seemed never to tire, and was as 
lively as the youngest Buck of the tribe. 

There was apparently no regular step or 
system to the dance. The Indians weaving 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


131 


back and forth, in couples, one behind the 
other, the one in the rear with his hands rest- 
ing on the shoulders of his partner and every 
one chanting a peculiar, monotonous song. 
Ever and anon a crowd of small boys would 
rush madly forth, with waving ornaments of 
palm leaves on their heads and each body 
painted a different color, and all yelling and 
screaming, leaping and jumping about like a 
swarm of maniacs. 

Now and again a man would drop out of the 
main circle and commence dancing by himself 
or with a woman, and soon there were many 
groups of performers — men, women, and boys 
— each and every one giving no heed to his or 
her fellows save to try to outdo the others in 
noise and contortions. 

Frank soon grew weary, and slipping away 
entered the hut, and curling up in his ham- 
mock, strove to go to sleep, but the din with- 
out was so great that slumber was impossible 
and ’twas long past midnight before the hilar- 
ity waned and the tired boy fell asleep. 


CHAPTER X 


It was very late when the travellers awoke, 
and Frank, who was the first to step outside the 
hut, was attracted by a strange sight. Gath- 
ered about a huge trough — formed by hollow- 
ing out a log — were a dozen or more women, 
and all were busily chewing cassava bread and 
spitting the pulp into the trough. The recep- 
tacle was already nearly one-half full of the 
disgusting mass, and Frank, remembering Mr. 
Andrews’ words, at once realised that the In- 
dians were preparing their native liquor, 
known as piwarrie. 

Then he recollected what Mr. Andrews had 
said about the drunken orgies, the quarrels and 
even the blood feuds which resulted from pi- 
warrie feasts, and hurrying back to the hut 
he told Mr. Andrews what he had seen. 

Mr. Andrews looked greatly troubled at the 
news. “ I was afraid of that,” he said, as he 

hurried into his clothes. “I knew the old Piai- 
132 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


133 


man would want a good spree before starting 
out. Unless we can get away before they be- 
gin we’ll be delayed so long we’ll have to aban- 
don the trip. These piwarrie feasts sometimes 
last for a week.” 

Leaving the hut, Mr. Andrews made his way 
to the Piaiman’s house. The medicine man 
was dozing in the sun outside his door, and to 
all of Mr. Andrews’ pleas merely shook his 
head and insisted that it would be an affront 
to the “devils” and an insult to his guests if 
the piwarrie feast was abandoned. Argu- 
ments, threats and promises were equally use- 
less, a piwarrie feast was part of the pro- 
gramme of festivities and nothing could alter 
the Acunas’ plans. 

At last Mr. Andrews gave up in despair. “I 
expect the wisest thing we can do is to start 
on to the forest with our Pianoghottos, if we 
can induce them to go, and then let the old 
Piaiman follow after and meet us,” he said. 

But the Pianoghottos would not take a step 
towards the forest, and when Mr. Andrews 
suggested returning to their village and aban- 


134 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


doning the trip, they refused point blank to 
leave until the piwarrie feast was over. 

“We’re in for it,” declared Mr. Andrews. 
“There’s nothing for us to do other than wait 
here until this miserable spree is finished, and 
then either go as far as we can into the bush or 
else go back. We can’t attempt to retrace our 
way across the savanna alone, and it would be 
suicidal to enter the forest without supplies 
and camping outfits.” 

“Perhaps it won’t last very long and the 
men won’t get very drunk,” suggested Frank. 

Mr. Andrews laughed drily. “They’ll get 
as drunk as they can,” he replied, “and they’ll 
keep it up as long as the piwarrie holds out. 
I’ve known of cases in which the entire supply 
of cassava, intended to supply the village with 
food for weeks, was destroyed to make a pi- 
warrie feast, and the people actually starved 
to death as a result. I’m glad you can be opti- 
mistic, Frank, but yon don’t know what’s com- 
ing and I do. If we can only keep the Piano- 
ghottos from getting into trouble I’ll be satis- 
fied. Likely as not they’ll rake up old tribal 
feuds when they’re drunk and there’ll be a 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


135 


fight. Then we’ll be in a nice fix, without men 
to accompany us back across the savanna. I’m 
worried, Frank, and I don’t mind admitting 
it.” 

But there was nothing the two could do* 
The trough of chewed cassava had been filled 
with water and left to ferment, and the In- 
dians spent the entire day sleeping, lazing and 
waiting for the miserable mass of piwarrie to 
ferment. Mr. Andrews and Frank were vir- 
tually prisoners until the feast should be over* 
and they occupied their time by exploring the 
country for several miles about, and even took 
a long tramp into the bush. But as soon as 
they entered the forest they realised how hope- 
less it would be to attempt any long trip with- 
out guides. It was far more dense than any 
of the bush along the rivers, there were no visi- 
ble paths or trails, and it was impossible to 
proceed in any direction without hewing a way 
with machetes. 

Joseph accompanied them and assured Mr. 
Andrews that he would take no part in the 
piwarrie feast, explaining that his people had 
been nearly wiped from existence by such an 


136 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


orgy in the past, and that ever since then his 
chief had forbidden the use of piwarrie by any 
member of his village. 

This was some comfort to the two white men, 
for they could be sure of one sober companion 
at least, and, if worst came to worst, Joseph 
would be able to help carry supplies enough to 
last the three as far as the Pianoghotto village. 

On the second day of their enforced wait, the 
three walked back across the savanna as far 
as the stream they had christened Ellis River 
and wandered down its bank towards the for- 
est. Where it entered the woods it afforded a 
chance to walk easily for the water was very 
low, and a fairly wide strip of sand and stones 
was exposed between the water and the wood- 
ed banks. 

“It might be possible to follow this stream 
far into the forest,” remarked Mr. Andrews, 
after they had travelled for a mile or more. 
“I imagine this is the river the Piaiman men- 
tioned, but it must flow in a very circuitous 
course to pass through the bush five days’ 
walk from the village.” 

For several hours they followed the course 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


137 


of the stream, and then found their way barred 
by a cliff of rock which rose perpendicularly 
from the river, which flowed against its base 
and swung sharply to the south. 

The opposite shore, however, was broken, 
and by crossing the stream higher up the party 
could easily have passed on further. It was 
growing late, however, and reluctantly the 
party retraced their way to the savanna and 
the village. 

“They’ve commenced already,” remarked 
Mr. Andrews, as they approached the houses 
and heard the shouts and cries of the hilarious 
Indians. “Make yourself as inconspicuous as 
possible, Frank, but try to keep an eye on our 
Pianoghottos. If a quarrel starts with them 
let me know at once. I’ll watch, too, and I 
only hope they keep together and don’t mix 
with the Acurias. The captain may need 
watching also. Those civilised Bucks some- 
times become worse than the wild chaps, when 
they drink piwarrie.” 

Turning to Joseph, he cautioned him also; 
made him promise not to touch a drop of the 
liquor and warned him not to get into any 


138 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


argument with the drunken Acurias or to take 
offence at anything they said or did. But none 
of the Indians had taken enough of the liquor 
as yet to lose control of their senses, for, as 
Mr. Andrews told Frank, an Indian must 
drink an immense amount of the filthy brew — 
often two or three gallons — before he becomes 
really intoxicated. 

The Pianoghottos were in a group by them- 
selves, and the Ackawaia boat captain was with 
them, which pleased Mr. Andrews greatly, for 
if these men remained by themselves it would 
be far simpler to watch them and keep them 
from getting into trouble than if they separ- 
ated and mingled with the Acurias. But the 
half-Acuria guide, who had led the party 
across the savanna, was not among the Piano- 
ghottos, and Mr. Andrews asked Joseph to 
find him and maintain a watch over him. 

As the sun sank, fires were lit, and, in the 
ruddy light cast by the flames, the women 
passed about among the men, handing them 
calabashes and gourds filled with the piwarrie, 
and hourly the Indians became more uproar- 
ious and the noise increased. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


139 


Soon, many of the Indians were unable to 
walk steadily or to stand, and threw themselves 
on the ground or into their hammocks, where 
they continued to drink. 

Others, still steady on their legs, commenced 
to shout tales of their bravery and prowess and 
to swagger boastfully about, taunting the 
others and hurling insults, but little attention 
was paid to them, although two or three times 
there were half-hearted scuffles between two 
of the Bucks. 

Even the women and children were now 
drinking freely of the piwarrie, and soon the 
entire village was involved in the debasing, dis- 
gusting orgy, and Frank grew sick at the 
sights which met his eyes as he lurked in the 
shadows of the huts and tried to follow the 
movements of the Pianoghottos and the cap- 
tain. 

Mr. Andrews also kept in the background, 
and Joseph slipped here and there watching 
the half-blood Acuria with his keen eyes. Sev- 
eral times the women caught sight of the Are- 
kuna youth and pressed gourds of piwarrie 
upon him. Joseph craftily accepted them and. 


140 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


pretending to drink, cast the liquor on the 
ground as soon as the women’s backs were 
turned. 

By midnight most of the Acurias were in an 
intoxicated stupor and lay, like pigs in their 
stys, upon the ground or in their hammocks, 
and as many of the women had also succumbed 
to the effects of the liquor, comparatively lit- 
tle was passed around. 

Noticing this, a brilliant scheme came to 
Frank’s mind and, approaching Mr. Andrews, 
he told him of his idea. 

“What’s to prevent us from destroying the 
piwarrie left in the trough?” he asked. “Most 
of the Indians are unconscious and the rest 
are too drunk to notice anything. We could 
sneak up to the trough and empty the piwar- 
rie out and the Indians would think they had 
used it all. Then they’ll sober up to-morrow 
and the trouble will be over.” 

“That’s not a bad idea,” replied Mr. An- 
drews. “But you or I would be seen and no- 
ticed at once. Perhaps Joseph might succeed 
without being caught. He could go to the 
trough with a calabash, as if to help himself, 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


141 


and then, when no one is looking Hello, 

what’s up now?” 

From a knot of Indians near one of the 
fires came a chorus of loud shouts and a shrill 
scream, and instantly the little group became 
a struggling, fighting mass, and a single 
glance showed Mr. Andrews and Frank that 
the Pianoghottos were in trouble. 

Without hesitation the two dashed forward, 
but ere they reached the scene of the fight 
Joseph rushed up, and in excited tones, ex- 
claimed: “Me tellum plenty bad. Him feller 
killum Acuria buckman. All same Acuria 
make for killum Pianoghotto.” His explana- 
tion was vague and incomplete, but there was 
no time to ask questions. One of the strangers 
had killed an Acuria, a fight had been started, 
and the all important matter was to separate 
the combatants ere there was further blood- 
shed and all the Pianoghottos were slaught- 
ered. 

Pushing their way among the struggling 
savages, regardless of their own danger, 
Mr. Andrews and Frank reached the centre 
of the disturbance. Lying on the ground was 


142 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


the dead Acuria, his head split open by a ma- 
chete blow, and above the body were the two 
Pianoghottos, the captain and the half-blooded 
Acuria, the latter with blood streaming from 
a cut in his shoulder. Luckily, few of the In- 
dians carried arms of any sort, and the mad- 
dened Acurias, who were bent on annihilating 
the Pianoghottos, were so befuddled with pi- 
warrie that they were stupid and slow to act. 
The Pianoghottos, on the other hand, seemed 
fairly sober, and were striving to back away 
from their enemies, while the captain grasped 
a machete in his hand, and in a Berserk-like 
fury, was keeping the Acurias at bay. 

Shouting to him not to strike, Mr. Andrews 
leaped backward, followed by Frank and 
Joseph, but the words were scarcely uttered 
when the captain swung his machete at the 
nearest Acuria and stretched him dying be- 
side his tribesman. 

For a brief instant the Acurias fell back, 
and taking advantage of this, Mr. Andrews 
wrenched the weapon from the captain’s grasp, 
seized him by the scruff of the neck, and shout- 
ing to the others to follow, kicked and cuffed 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


143 


the Pianoghottos into motion and hurried with 
the captain from the village. Frank had be- 
come so excited that he quite forgot his own 
danger, and following Mr. Andrews’ example, 
he grasped the nearest Pianoghotto, and driv- 
ing another before him, ran with Mr. Andrews 
and the others. Joseph had disappeared, but 
ere the darkness beyond the firelight was 
reached, he came running up, carrying Frank’s 
gun and cartridge belt. He had realised the 
danger in which they were placed without arms 
and had risked his life to rush to Frank’s hut 
and secure the gun. But while Frank appreci- 
ated his bravery and his foresight, there was 
no time to be lost in expressing thanks or ask- 
ing questions. The village was in a turmoil, 
the Acurias were mad for vengeance, and the 
only hope of safety lay in making a forced 
march to the Pianoghotto village before the 
Acurias had recovered their senses sufficiently 
to follow. 

The savanna was before them — vast, black 
and limitless as a waveless sea. To enter it 
at night without provisions or supplies was 
dangerous to a degree, but behind lay still 


144 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


greater peril. Then from the village came a 
wailing cry of “Kenaima! Kenaima!” At the 
awful word the Pianoghottos cringed and 
trembled and Frank shivered as with a chill, 
for all knew its dreadful import, and without 
hesitation the fugitives plunged into the mazes 
of the savanna. 

Onward through the night they hurried, and 
as they went the Pianoghottos and the captain 
wore off the effects of the piwarrie, and bit 
by bit they told how the fight, which had 
brought such dire results, had started. 

It seemed that one of the Acurias had taunt- 
ed the half-blood with being a renegade ; words 
had followed; the Pianoghottos had taken the 
part of their adopted tribesman; an Acuria 
had struck at him and had wounded him in the 
shoulder, and the injured man had wrenched 
the machete from his aggressor and had killed 
him. Then the captain had arrived; another 
Acuria had been sacrificed in the drunken 
brawl, and as a consequence the relentless 
Kenaima would follow on their trail, while 
an even worse fate threatened in the grassy 
waste that lay ahead. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


145 


For hour after hour they tramped on; sev- 
eral times they lost their way in the darkness 
and wandered about, seeking the trail, but 
with daylight they found less trouble and at 
last reached the little river. 

Their eyes were heavy with sleep, they were 
footsore and weary and the wounded man was 
so weak with loss of blood that his fellows were 
obliged to support him. Soon it became evi- 
dent that a stop must be made for a short rest 
and, carefully concealing their tracks, they 
turned at right angles and, pressing through 
the coarse weeds and grass, gained a little 
patch of woods in a hollow. 

There was nothing to eat, and although there 
were many birds about, they dared not shoot 
for fear of betraying their hiding place to their 
pursuers, who might already be upon their 
trail, but Joseph succeeded in snaring a trum- 
pet bird and, despite the danger, they built a 
fire and made a slender meal from the creature. 

“Do you suppose they really will send a 
Kenaima after us?” asked Frank. 

“I haven’t a doubt of it,” replied Mr. An- 
drews. “Those Acurias are primitive people, 


146 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


and to them the laws of blood vengeance are 
sacred. I have no doubt a Kenaima has 
already started on our trail.” 

“Will he try to kill us as well as the In- 
dians who killed the Acurias?” the boy en- 
quired in a troubled tone. 

“I’d like to be able to say no, honestly,” re- 
plied Mr. Andrews, “but I can’t. I don’t wish 
to frighten you or to overrate our peril, but 
under Indian custom not only the two who 
actually killed the men, but all their relatives 
as well, must be wiped out of existence to sat- 
isfy the Kenaima. Both the captain and the 
wounded man there will be objects of venge- 
ance, and as the Pianoghottos were involved 
in the trouble, and we helped the guilty ones 
to escape, I fear we will all be included in the 
Kenaima. We must use the utmost care and 
watchfulness. If we can reach the river and 
our boat we may be safe. I don’t think the 
avengers will follow any but the actual cul- 
prits very far, but until then death lurks in 
every thicket and at every turn.” 

There’s another reason why I fear for 
our own safety. The old Piaiman would hesi- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


147 


tate at nothing to secure that burning glass. 
He wouldn’t steal it as long as we were 
friendly, for with all their faults these Bucks 
are absolutely honest, but the Kenaima gives 
him an excuse for putting us out of the way 
and securing the coveted object. I shouldn’t 
be surprised if the Piaiman became Kenaima 
himself.” 

“Well, I’m glad Joseph brought my gun. 
I’ll shoot at any Kenaima I see,” declared 
Frank. 

“I hope we won’t be obliged to do that,” said 
Mr. Andrews. “It might afford relief for a 
time, but as I told you before, the death of one 
Kenaima does not end the matter. Another 
will follow relentlessly where the first leaves 
off, and moreover that would make us direct 
objects of vengeance. However, it may be- 
come necessary. We can’t have any killings 
if we can avoid it.” 

Mr. Andrews now insisted that Frank must 
secure some sleep, and despite the dangers 
which beset them and the excitement, Frank 
was so tired that he fell into a troubled slum- 
ber from which he awoke greatly refreshed. 


148 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


The wounded man was still very weak, but he 
declared he had rather die on the way than to 
starve here in the savanna thicket, and once 
more the fugitives resumed their tramp. A 
Pianoghotto went first, the wounded man and 
the captain followed and behind these came the 
other Indians, then Frank and Mr. Andrews, 
while Joseph brought up the rear. There was 
no danger of an attack while *moving forward, 
Mr. Andrews declared, for the Kenaima must 
attack and destroy his victims single handed 
and by prescribed methods, and hence the 
longer they could keep on the march the less 
was their danger. 

All through the long, scorching day they 
kept on. F rank’s head reeled with the sun and 
lack of food and even the tireless Indians 
showed signs of weariness. 

As the sun sank, Mr. Andrews announced 
that they must go into camp for the night, for 
the game paths crossed and recrossed the trail, 
and to attempt to follow the way after dark 
would be fatal. Once more they turned from 
their course and, hoping to find a sheltered 
spot where there was water, they climbed a 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


149 


low hillock to obtain a better view of their sur- 
roundings. 

J oseph was the first to gain the summit, and 
as he swept his eyes about the horizon he ut- 
tered a frightened cry, and pointed back to 
the east. The cause of his fear was instantly 
apparent as the others reached his side, for 
stretching across the sea of grass was a wall of 
smoke and beneath it great tongues of flame 
gleamed and leaped as they devoured the dry 
herbage. The savanna was on fire; the wind, 
blowing strongly from the east, was carrying 
the raging blaze directly towards the fugitives, 
and each moment the vast clouds of smoke and 
the lurid flames were approaching nearer. 

For a brief instant the party upon the knoll 
stood spellbound, gazing at this new peril that 
threatened. Then Mr. Andrews found voice 
and shouted his orders. “Tear up the grass 
about us,” he cried. “Then set fire to that 
beyond. It’s our only chance. Then we must 
take to the forest. The Acurias are trying to 
burn us out.” 

As he spoke he fell to work with machete 
and hands, and the others quickly followed his 


150 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


example. Frank had heard of prairie fires and 
of men escaping by burning the grass before 
them, but he had never dreamed of resorting 
to such means to save himself; but he worked 
with a will, and the seven pairs of hands 
rapidly tore and cut the grass and weeds away 
from the summit of the knoll. By the time 
darkness fell the roar of the fire behind them 
was plainly audible, the smoke filled their 
lungs, and the night was illumined by the rag- 
ing flames and glare. Then Mr. Andrews lit 
the encircling fringe of vegetation to the west 
and south and the men crowded back as far as 
possible from the intense heat of the flames 
that swept through the grass about them. The 
wind had risen and the herbage of the savanna 
burned quickly, and before the oncoming sheet 
of flame had reached within a half mile of the 
knoll, the fire, which the party had kindled, had 
burned its way rapidly southwestward and a 
broad stretch of charred and blackened earth 
extended before them with here and there a 
stout bush or a small tree, still blazing like a 
torch, above the bare and smoking ground. 

There was no time to lose, and though the 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


151 


earth still glowed in places, and the Indians’ 
bare feet suffered from the hot ground, the 
party dashed down the knoll and hurried to- 
wards the dim forest that stood silhouetted by 
the receding flames. 

But long ere the cool depths of the forest 
were reached the wounded Indian gave up, and 
throwing himself on the ground, rested his 
face upon his knees and prepared to await his 
end. 

“We can't go on and leave him here,” de- 
clared Mr. Andrews, “we must manage to find 
some spot close at hand where there’s water or 
damp earth and unburnt foliage, and there pass 
the night.” 

Joseph volunteered to hunt for a suitable 
spot, and soon returned with news that he had 
found a thicket and a small pond a short dis- 
tance away, and where the foliage was still 
green. Lifting the wounded Indian and half 
carrying him with them, the party stumbled 
forward after Joseph and reached the little 
wood. The water of the pond was black with 
ashes and burnt leaves, and was thick with 
mud, but to the parched throats and burning 


152 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


faces of the fugitives it was wonderfully wel- 
come. A rough bed of leaves was made for 
the injured man, and the others, famished and 
weak with hunger, seated themselves deject- 
edly under the shelter of the stunted trees. 
They had had nothing to eat, save the trumpet 
bird, for over twenty-four hours, they had 
tramped many miles and had worked feverishly 
and beyond their strength to save themselves 
from the flames kindled by their enemies, but 
no word of complaint was uttered. If they 
could but gain the forest they might yet be 
saved, for there game of some sort would be 
found — even the seeds of the forest trees might 
serve to keep them from starvation, and, pro- 
vided the Kenaima did not destroy them, they 
might yet win their way to the distant Piano- 
gliotto village and safety. 

Sleep was imperative, and it was agreed 
that first one and then the other should keep 
watch, while the rest slept, and the first watch 
fell to Joseph, who, although the youngest of 
the Indians, seemed to possess the greatest en- 
durance of all. Frank handed his loaded gun 
to the Arekuna, and the next instant was 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


153 


sound asleep, for utter exhaustion overcame 
his fears and ’twas impossible for him to keep 
his eyes from closing. He was dimly conscious 
of hearing Joseph arouse the captain, when his 
watch was over, and then he suddenly woke 
with a start at the sound of a gunshot and a 
loud cry. 


CHAPTER XI 


“What’s the matter? What’s happened?” 
cried Frank, instantly wide awake, and jump- 
ing up, as did Mr. Andrews and Joseph, who 
also had been aroused by the sounds. 

The captain stood trembling and wild eyed, 
with still smoking gun in hand, and in shak- 
ing voice, exclaimed: “Me tellum Kenaima 
he come. All same tiger he come. Seeum kil- 
lum sick feller me shootum, no can catchum, 
Kenaima all same Hori.” 

At his words the others turned with one ac- 
cord to the wounded Indian, but one glance 
was enough, — he was dead, his skull crushed in 
by a tremendous blow. 

“Where are the other men?” suddenly ex- 
claimed Mr. Andrews, glancing about, and 
then Frank, for the first time, realised that the 
Pianoghottos were missing. The four looked 
at one another with blanched and frightened 
faces, and Frank’s knees shook with uncon- 
trollable terror. 


154 


THE GOLDEN CITY 155 

“Kenaima,” repeated Joseph in awe-struck 
tones. 

Mr. Andrews nodded. “Yes, he’s struck his 
first blow,” he said. 

“But where are the other men?” queried 
Frank in a shaky voice. “Have they been 
killed, too?” 

“Deserted,” replied Mr. Andrews. 
“Sneaked away. Their fear of Kenaima and 
the forest was too much for them. Thank God 
we escaped. That poor fellow only had his life 
shortened by a few hours — he would not have 
lived through another day.” 

“Ugh! it makes me shiver,” exclaimed 
Frank, who stood, with chattering teeth, his 
gun ready to shoot and his eyes glancing fur- 
tively about. “It’s all so mysterious and 
creepy and silent. Oh, I do wish we could do 
something; anything rather than stand here 
helpless in the dark and not knowing who’ll 
be killed next.” 

“Dawn’s breaking,” said Mr. Andrews, try- 
ing to steady his voice. “There’s no more 
danger at present. Perhaps they won’t trouble 
the rest of us. Joseph, light a fire.” 


156 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


The cheerful blaze did much to restore the 
courage of the little party, and the sun soon 
rose and sent its warm and welcome light 
across the blackened, burned savanna. 

“We must get into the forest,” declared Mr. 
Andrews. “Even the danger of Kenaima is 
better than starvation out on this waste, and 
we’ll find no game on the savanna now. In 
the woods there must be something we can eat, 
and, by following the edge of the woods to the 
west, we can eventually reach the unburned 
savanna and the Pianoghotto village. It’s go- 
ing to be a mighty hard job and I can’t for- 
give myself from getting you into this scrape, 
Frank.” 

“Don’t worry about me, Mr. Andrews,” re- 
plied the boy. “I was just as keen on this trip 
as yourself, and I’m not a bit afraid we won’t 
come out all right. We’ve a gun, and four of 
us ought to be able to get the best of one 
Kenaima.” 

“You’re a brave boy,” replied Mr. Andrews, 
“but the Kenaima is not our greatest danger. 
We are face to face with many perils. We 
must secure food and w*. must find our way. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


157 


without guides, through a wild, unknown dis- 
trict. The nearest village is fully seventy-five 
miles distant — even by the shortest route across 
the savanna — and we are without supplies, 
blankets, hammocks or anything save the 
clothes we wear, the few odds and ends in our 
pockets and your gun.” 

They were tramping steadily towards the 
forest as he spoke, and all realised that their 
only hope lay in reaching the shelter of the 
bush ere their strength gave out, and they hur- 
ried forward as fast as their weary limbs would 
permit. By noon, the trees with their drapery 
of vines and dark, shadowy depths, were near 
at hand, and soon after, the four half-starved, 
exhausted men pushed through the dense 
growth of vegetation and left the savanna be- 
hind. 

For a short distance the undergrowth was a 
perfect tangle and Joseph cut and hewed a 
way for the others to follow, but once really 
within the forest the woods became more open, 
and the party proceeded more quietly and kept 
ears and eyes alert for sounds or signs of some 
living creature which might serve as food. 


158 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


There were birds high in the trees, but invisi- 
ble, and it was not until they had penetrated a 
mile into the forest that the barking cries of 
toucans reached their ears and, creeping for- 
ward, Frank brought down two of the big 
gaudy birds from tree tops. 

As Joseph dashed forward to secure them 
he gave a glad cry and held up some irregular 
brown object he had discovered on the ground. 

“Saouari,” he exclaimed. “Me tellum plenty 
good for eat.” Cracking one of the nuts he 
handed it to Frank. It was delicious, rich and 
meaty, tasting something like a Brazil nut, and 
every one was delighted at the lucky find, for 
the Saouari nuts are large and nourishing. 
While the captain built a fire and prepared the 
toucans the others gathered the nuts, and as 
the birds sizzled and broiled, the ravenous men 
strove to allay some of their hunger by means 
of the food so providentially discovered. But 
they were all too few, and even Joseph felt 
unable to climb the lofty tree and shake down 
more. The toucans were wofully small and 
skinny when plucked, despite their apparent 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


159 


size when alive, and the two birds were scarcely 
more than mouthfuls to the four men. 

But even this slender meal of tough, dry tou- 
can and Saouari nuts gave new life and 
strength to the party, and, in the hope of find- 
ing more food, they hurried on into the forest. 

For an hour or more they tramped about, 
following the easiest route among the trees, 
peering into thickets and craning their necks 
in search of sloths, monkeys or parrots in the 
trees, and so intent on finding something to eat 
that they gave little heed to anything else. At 
last they reached a low, damp spot, bare of un- 
derbrush, and a small brown animal scurried 
across the opening. Frank blazed away and 
the creature tumbled head over heels and lay 
still. It was a full-grown agouti and a good 
meal was assured. 

The increasing darkness of the forest now 
warned the party that sunset was near at hand, 
and, as the wet and muddy depression was no 
place to spend the night, they turned about and 
retraced their way to higher and drier ground. 

Soon a little ridge or knoll was found, with 
a huge mora tree growing at the summit. The 


160 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


base of the tree spread out into enormous slab- 
like buttresses, extending nearly twenty feet 
on either side of the trunk and, between these 
solid walls of living wood, a fire was built and 
the party prepared to spend the night. 

It was an ideal spot under the circumstances. 
The tree formed a natural protection on three 
sides and any enemy would be obliged to ap- 
proach by the narrow opening between the 
roots. To be sure there was considerable cover 
which might conceal the Kenaima, or any one 
else, until within a few feet of the tree, but it 
was all small growth, and while the agouti was 
roasting over the fire, every one worked at 
clearing a large open space before the tree. 
Much of the undergrowth removed consisted of 
broad-leaved palms and these were saved and 
spread upon the ground to serve as beds. 
There was no roof overhead, but the dense fo- 
liage of the tree served as a shelter to keep out 
any but the heaviest rain, and, with appetites 
fully satisfied for the first time for three days, 
the men felt quite secure and congratulated 
themselves upon the good fortune which had 
been theirs since entering the forest. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


161 


But all realised that they must be constantly 
on guard, for the reports of F rank’s gun would 
betray their whereabouts to their foes, and ar- 
rangements were made to keep a bright fire 
burning throughout the night in order to illu- 
minate the surrounding forest and the clearing 
before their camp and Mr. Andrews insisted on 
taking the first watch. The night passed with- 
out an alarm, however, and after a breakfast 
on the remains of the agouti, the four again 
set forth. 

It was still very early and the forest was 
filled with the notes of birds and the cries of 
parrots, and within ten minutes after leaving 
the knoll where they had passed the night, 
Frank secured a pair of big green Amazons, 
and a little later, shot a fine marudi that was 
flushed from the ground underfoot. Joseph 
declared it had a nest nearby and a little search 
disclosed four large blue-green eggs resting in 
a hollow beside a fallen limb. 

Just beyond, a tiny stream was reached and 
here a stop was made and a fire built, and a 
meal of roasted eggs and parrot was served, 
the marudi being saved for another meal. 


162 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


For several hours, the party trudged through 
the forest but no sign of bright daylight mark- 
ing the edge of the savanna was seen, and at last 
Mr. Andrews halted the men. For a moment 
he looked about, glanced up striving to catch 
a glimpse of sunlight, examined the trees care- 
fully and then, turning to Joseph, asked the 
Arekuna if he was sure they were going to- 
wards the savanna. Reluctantly, the Indian 
admitted he was not, and a question to the cap- 
tain brought the same reply. 

Mr. Andrews’ face wore a grave expression. 
“I was afraid so,” he remarked. “We were so 
intent on finding game that we neglected to 
note our surroundings or to mark our trail. 
We are all equally to blame ; it was carelessness 
on my part — I was in charge and should have 
known better. But it’s too late for regrets — 
we’ve got to face things as they are. We’re 
lost — there’s no doubt of it. We must employ 
all the skill and knowledge we possess to find 
our way to the savanna.” 

“I’d rather be lost here than on the savanna,” 
declared Frank. “At least we can get some- 
thing to eat in the forest.” 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


163 


“That’s true,” agreed Mr. Andrews, “but 
we can’t go on tramping through the woods, 
and living on game forever. We must proceed 
in a straight line to the west. The only trouble 
is which is the west?” 

Then for the first time it dawned upon 
Frank how hopeless was their predicament. 
No sunlight filtered through the canopy of fo- 
liage, the forest was filled with a difF used, dim 
light, no shadows were cast and the innumera- 
ble signs of direction, which aid the woodsmen 
in the wilderness of the north, were absolutely 
lacking in this tropical jungle. 

“If we only had a compass,” he exclaimed. 
“But I left mine in the hut. I have it, we can 
use a watch for a compass; I remember I 
learned that trick long ago.” As he spoke he 
drew out his watch and held it horizontally, 
turning it this way, then that. And then he 
realised that even this would not serve, for 
there was not enough light to cast a shadow 
beneath the hour hand. “It’s no use,” he said, 
and with a disappointed sigh he slipped the 
timepiece in his pocket. 

Meanwhile the two Indians were talking rap- 


164 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


idly in their own tongue and were closely ex- 
amining all the trees, the earth and the hang- 
ing vines, and presently they declared that they 
thought they knew the direction towards the 
savanna. 

“Very well, we might as well try,” said 
Mr. Andrews ; “we can accomplish nothing by 
standing here. As long as we follow a straight 
course we’ll eventually arrive somewhere.” 

With Joseph leading the way, and the cap- 
tain making marks upon the trees and bushes 
as they passed, the party again struggled for- 
ward until, at last, Mr. Andrews again called 
a halt. 

“We’re going deeper into the wilderness ev- 
ery moment,” he announced. “See, the sun’s 
setting and the light’s coming from almost be- 
hind us. We’ve been travelling southeast.” 

There could be no question about it. Now 
that the sun was sinking, an occasional ray of 
light found its way through the mass of foliage 
and struck upon the upper portions of the 
trees. By these spots of light all could see that 
the edge of the forest and the savanna lay far 
behind and many weary miles away r 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


165 


“There’s no use in going farther,” declared 
Mr. Andrews; “we might as well camp here.” 
There was a little stream a few rods from the 
ridge on which the men stood, several large 
trees with their buttressed roots formed easily 
protected spots wherein to sleep, and disheart- 
ened as they were at their predicament, the 
party at once proceeded to prepare for the 
night. Frank and Joseph started out in search 
of game; for the marudi had been consumed 
at midday and a single tinamou or “maam” 
was the only wild thing they had obtained dur- 
ing the afternoon. But luck again favoured 
Frank and beside the little creek he killed a 
labba. 

The night passed without incident, but to- 
wards morning a light rain began to fall, which 
added to the fugitives’ discomforts and kept 
them awake, huddled over the fire to keep dry 
and warm. 

While the remains of the supper were being 
warmed over for breakfast the captain rose, and 
saying he was going to the stream to drink, 
he stepped from sight beyond the little rise. 

It was but a short distance to the creek, 


166 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


it was daylight and no one dreamed that deadly 
peril lurked close at hand or that the captain 
went forth to his doom. 

Ten minutes passed; no sounds save the 
twitter of birds, the soft patter of the rain 
drops and the subdued voices of the men broke 
the silence of the forest and then, — soul-pierc- 
ing, blood-curdling — a scream of mortal terror 
ripped through the still, damp air. The three 
by the fire leaped to their feet, shaking with 
nameless dread, speechless and frozen to the 
spot at the awful sound. Again and yet again 
the agonised shrieks rang out; each fainter 
than the last, and then, quavering, — rising and 
falling in a long-drawn wail, came the wild, 
•hair-raising cry of a jaguar, and all was still. 

Mr. Andrews was the first to find his voice. 
“Tiger!” he exclaimed. “He’s attacked the 
captain. Come on, we may be in time to save 
him.” 

Ere his words were uttered he dashed into 
the woods in the direction from which the fear- 
ful sounds had come, and Frank, forgetting his 
terror at thought of the captain’s danger, 
rushed after, with Joseph at his side. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


167 


They reached the edge of the stream, but 
there was no sign of the captain, no trace of 
a struggle, and for an instant they stood 
searching the surroundings with anxious eyes, 
and listening for some sound that would betray 
the presence of the giant cat. 

Then, from afar off, the jaguar screamed 
again and, turning, they hurried in the direc- 
tion of the cry. 

Suddenly Joseph uttered a frightened yell 
and stood pointing at the ground. “Kenaima!” 
he cried, “tiger Kenaima.” 

Plainly visible in the soft, damp earth were 
the imprints of human feet. 

“Nonsense,” exclaimed Mr. Andrews, as he 
carefully examined the marks, “those may be 
the captain’s footprints or your own. We’ve 
been wandering about here before perhaps.” 

But Joseph was not convinced. “Me tellum 
Kenaima,” he declared. “Tiger no killum 
Buckman. Tiger Kenaima he catchum cap- 
tain, me sabby.” 

Frank felt again that quaking nameless fear 
that had possessed him when, on the savanna, 
they had found the injured Indian killed by 


168 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


the mysterious avenger, and he was glad when 
Mr. Andrews spoke. 

“Perhaps you’re right, Joseph,” he said in 
thoughtful tones, as though speaking to him- 
self. “I have never heard of a jaguar attack- 
ing a man before. We’ll follow these foot- 
marks and find where they lead.” 

Carefully parting the foliage, and ever 
keeping the footprints in view, the three crept 
forward, Mr. Andrews leading, Frank with 
gun ready for instant use and Joseph, evident- 
ly fearing swift and sudden death at every 
turn, striving to keep as near the protection of 
the gun as possible. 

For some distance they followed the trail 
until, at last, it disappeared in a thicket so 
dense it seemed impossible that human being 
could have forced a way through. 

“If he’s in there it will be too dangerous to 
follow him,” whispered Mr. Andrews. “We’ll 
go around and see if he’s come out on the other 
side.” 

But the tangle was larger than they had 
suspected and, when they had skirted its 
edge for some distance, they came within sight 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


169 


of the creek. For a moment they hesitated, 
glancing about, and then Mr. Andrews ut- 
tered an exclamation of surprise and hurried 
towards a brown object half-hidden amid some 
coarse-leaved plants. Frank gasped and felt 
sick as they reached it, for there — an expres- 
sion of indescribable fear still upon its distorted 
features — lay the dead body of the captain, his 
skull crushed by the Kenaima’s club. 

One swift glance was enough for Joseph. At 
sight of the corpse he uttered a piercing 
scream and, leaping back, turned and ran like 
a deer from the accursed spot. 

Frank and Mr. Andrews shouted to him, but 
he heeded them not. Plunging into the stream 
he splashed his way across and, without even 
looking back, dashed into the woods on the 
farther bank. 

“Come on, we mustn’t lose him,” shouted Mr. 
Andrews and followed by Frank he rushed 
after the fleeing Indian. 

Calling to him as they ran, the two crossed 
the creek and, guided by the sounds of crash- 
ing brush, sped through the forest in pursuit 
of their companion. 


170 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


Fortunately it was impossible for even an 
Indian to make great speed in the jungle and 
the noise made by Joseph enabled his friends 
to follow him without trouble, but they were 
torn and scratched by spines and vines, they 
were panting for breath and their voices were 
hoarse with shouting ere the Arekuna at last 
ceased his mad race and permitted Frank and 
Mr. Andrews to reach his side. 

But his physical exhaustion had served to 
drive away his insane terror and he seemed 
heartily ashamed of himself for running away 
from the others. 

And now, as they sat with heaving chests 
waiting to regain their breath, these three sur- 
vivors of the ill-fated party realised the plight 
to which they had been brought. 

In their mad rush through the forest they 
had completely lost sense of direction. The 
sky was overcast and there was no sunlight to 
aid them, and their only food was the labba, 
which had been left roasting by the fire when 
they had rushed off at sound of the captain’s 
screams and the triumphant tiger-call of the 
Kenaima. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


171 


But the question of food was the least of 
their troubles. The forest was full of game 
and to find their way out, or even to their last 
night’s camp, was the great problem which con- 
fronted them. 

“If we can find that creek we may succeed,” 
said Mr. Andrews as they talked over the mat- 
ter. “We could search its banks until we found 
our footprints and our camp and from there 
retrace our way by our own trail, but I haven’t 
the least idea where the creek lies.” 

“But if we keep going in one direction we 
must strike some stream,” said Frank, “and 
then by following that we will certainly come 
out somewhere.” 

“My boy,” said Mr. Andrews gravely, “you 
have no idea what lies before us. Even by fol- 
lowing a stream it may take weeks to reach 
any village or settlement and our clothing will 
be in shreds and our shoes worn through long 
before that time. But you are right about 
reaching a stream — it’s the only thing we can 
do, and if the stream is large enough we can 
make a woodskin or a raft and go down with 
the current. We’ll run grave risks in falls and 


172 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


rapids, but it’s our sole chance. First, how- 
ever, we must obtain food. We’ll hunt for 
something to eat, for our lives depend upon 
keeping our health and strength.” 

So, for an hour or more, they searched for 
game and at last were rewarded by securing a 
powi, and having eaten this they marched in 
single file through the forest, making their 
trail as they went, striving always to keep a 
straight course and ever hoping that ere long 
they would gain a watercourse which would 
carry them once more to civilisation and safety. 

Little game was seen, but late in the after- 
noon Frank killed a monkey, and a few mo- 
ments later Joseph uttered a glad shout. To 
their ears came the welcome sound of running 
water, a brighter light ahead showed a break 
in the forest and, hurrying forward, they came 
upon the bank of a good-sized stream flowing 
swiftly along its pebbly bed. It was not deep, 
and there was a fairly open spot on the further 
bank and Mr. Andrews suggested crossing over 
and camping on the opposite shore. 

“I don’t think the Kenaima will trouble us,” 
he said; “the tiger’s cry signified triumph and 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


173 


would not have ben uttered if the avenger con- 
sidered his task incomplete, but it will be safer 
beyond the stream. In my opinion this is the 
Ellis River, Frank, and in that case, none but 
the Piaiman would dare to cross it. Moreover 
we can build a craft of some sort on the other 
side, as well as on this, and that open space is 
an ideal camping spot.” 

“Well, I’m for crossing over without all 
those reasons,” replied Frank. “The very 
thought of this forest behind us gives me the 
shivers. I’ll feel much better off on the other 
bank.” 

Joseph, too, was of the same opinion — the 
fear of the Kenaima lurked in the dim aisles 
of the forest they had left — and so, without 
more ado, the river was forded and soon the 
monkey was broiling over a fire. And as Frank 
sat beside Mr. Andrews upon the roots of the 
great mora tree and his thoughts carried him 
swiftly over the five weeks which had passed 
since he left Georgetown he was very silent. 

“What were you thinking about, Frank?” 
asked Mr. Andrews, as they rose at Joseph’s 
announcement that supper was ready. 


174 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


“I was thinking of all the adventures I’ve 
had and wondering what’s before us,” replied 
the boy. 

“You’ve certainly had your share,” said Mr. 
Andrews. “Time alone can tell what’s ahead 
of us, but my honest opinion is that your ad- 
ventures have just begun.” 


CHAPTER XII 


On the morning after our story begins, Joseph 
commenced preparations for making a wood- 
skin, for after due consideration it had been 
decided that this simple and light craft was 
the most advisable in which to embark upon 
the river. 

A raft might have been safer and more 
stable, but it would take longer to construct, 
and in case rapids or falls were encountered it 
would have to be abandoned and a new one 
built beyond the cataracts, whereas a wood- 
skin could be portaged around the broken 
water. 

The Arekuna soon found a suitable tree for 
his purpose and in a short time had wedged 
a great cylindrical roll of thick bark from the 
trunk. Birds were abundant along the river 
and, although no large game was secured, the 
three companions dined well on a hannaqua 

and a trumpet-bird which Frank killed, while 
175 


176 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


a welcome addition to the menu was furnished 
by Mr. Andrews, who caught a number of 
large crawfish in the river. Joseph declared 
there were fish in the stream and, while the 
bark was being softened by soaking in water, 
he spent his time making a bow and arrows. 

The bow was crude, to be sure, but the young 
leaves of an etah palm furnished fibre for a 
string, arrow-canes grew beside the stream, and 
heads were cleverly fashioned from hard wood 
and bones, for the Indian was accustomed to 
working with few and simple tools and knew 
all the resources of the forest. Frank was 
sceptical as to Joseph’s ability to shoot fish with 
his improvised weapons, but the next morning 
the Arekuna succeeded in catching a fish weigh- 
ing fully fifteen pounds and there was no longer 
any fear of starvation, even if Frank’s slen- 
der store of ammunition was exhausted. More- 
over, Joseph assured the others that he could 
obtain many birds and small animals with his 
primitive weapons, and thus the gun could be 
reserved for cases of necessity or for large, shy 
game. 

Frank had seen woodskins in use many times 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


177 


during his trip, but he had never realised 
how easily they were made until he watched 
J osepli as the latter bent the sides of the bark 
shell together at the ends, secured them with 
tough vines and smeared the crevices with gum 
from a forest tree. Spreaders, or thwarts, were 
then forced into place between the edges of 
the bark, and before noon of the second day, 
the frail but buoyant canoe was ready, with 
the exception of the paddles. Here again the 
Indian’s knowledge of natural resources proved 
a surprise to Frank, who had thought the la- 
bour of hewing paddles from the tough trees, 
by means of a machete, would be a Herculean 
task. But Joseph soon found a small tree 
with curiously-fluted trunk, the ridges of which 
were as thin and flat as boards. These projec- 
tions were easily split off and in a wonderfully 
short time were chopped into the form of pad- 
dles. Mr. Andrews told Frank that the tree 
was the ‘Masara’ or ‘Yaruri,’ known commonly 
as “paddle wood,” from the fact that it was 
universally employed for making paddles. 

Everything was now ready, but as they 
could not be sure of finding a better camping 


178 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


place that night, and a few hours’ delay was of 
no consequence, the start was put off until the 
following morning. The afternoon was de- 
voted to hunting and Joseph proved the value 
of his bow and arrows, and his own skill as 
well, by killing a number of birds, and, in ad- 
dition, a large land tortoise was captured to 
further swell the supply of provisions. 

Soon after daybreak the woodskin was 
launched; Mr. Andrews took his seat in the 
bow, Frank squatted amidships and Joseph, 
stepping into the stern, pushed the canoe from 
shore. With a sweep of his paddle the Indian 
drove the craft into midstream, the current 
seized it and bore it swiftly along its course, and 
in a moment the camp was out of sight and the 
voyage down this unknown river of the wilder- 
ness was begun. 

For mile after mile they sped on, the river 
increasing in size as they proceeded, while many 
smaller creeks and waterways added their quota 
to the main stream. Around bend after bend 
the river turned and twisted- — north, east, west 
and, at times, even to the south — and ever the 
vast forest rose in ramparts of green above the 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


179 


banks. At every bend the speed of the wood- 
skin was checked and the voyagers crept care- 
fully close to shore, for they never knew when 
a rapid or cataract might be reached, and they 
had no minds to be swept into the turmoil and 
to possible destruction without warning. 

But throughout the day no falls were seen 
and the few small rapids encountered were run 
in safety. By midafternoon a range of dis- 
tant blue mountains loomed above the forest 
ahead and, as these presaged falls and rapids, 
it was decided to make camp for the night ere 
reaching them. Accordingly a landing was 
made on a strip of sandy beach, the canoe was 
hauled safely beyond reach of the water, and 
Mr. Andrews and Frank commenced gathering 
palm leaves and dry sticks for fire and shelter, 
while Joseph, — bow and arrow in hand, — made 
his way down stream in search of fish. 

All felt elated at the distance they had cov- 
ered in safety and no longer were they haunted 
by the fear of the Kenaima, for they felt sure 
that the Acurias had been left many miles be- 
hind and that, even if the Avenger still fol- 


180 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


lowed on their trail, he would never catch them 
unless he took to the river in a boat. 

To be sure, they were still in the unknown 
wilderness, but they had only to continue down 
stream in order to reach one of the great rivers 
of the colony, and, once that was gained, their 
little craft would carry them to settlements 
and civilisation. Even the danger of starva- 
tion now seemed remote, for birds, fish and ani- 
mals were abundant and, by smoking and buc- 
caning game, they could provide a supply of 
food sufficient to last them many days. 

Cheered by such thoughts Mr. Andrews and 
Frank were busily at work on their little shel- 
ter of palm leaves, and talking of the future 
as they laboured, when Joseph dashed into 
sight. Instantly they knew that something was 
wrong for the Indian’s eyes were wide with 
terror, his swarthy skin was ashen and he 
trembled as with a chill. 

“What’s wrong?” cried Mr. Andrews, anx- 
iously. 

For answer Joseph flung himself on Mr. 
Andrews and clung to him wildly, “Dido!” he 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


181 


chattered, “Hori! Me seeum two, t’ree Dido, 
Wai! Wail” 

“No makeum fool. What for talkum so?” 
demanded Mr. Andrews, striving to obtain 
something intelligible from the frightened In- 
dian. 

But all to no avail; Joseph merely reite- 
rated: “Hori, me seeum Dido,” in an excess of 
terror. 

“What do you suppose he saw?” exclaimed 
Frank, who was beginning to feel nervous him- 
self for Joseph’s fright was so great it seemed 
contagious. 

“He’s seen something that frightened him 
out of his wits. But what ’twas I can’t im- 
agine,” replied Mr. Andrews; “we’ll have to 
investigate. Come along, Joseph. Whereum 
Dido?” 

But at this Joseph only clung the tighter to 
Mr. Andrews and fairly sobbed: “No makeum 
walk so,” he pleaded, “Dido eatum. Hori 
eatum.” 

“Shut up,” ordered Mr. Andrews, beginning 
to lose patience, and quite forgetting to use 
talky-talky, “I don’t know what you saw, but 


182 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


you’re a blithering idiot. There’s no such thing 
as a Dido or a Hori. Let go and come along 
or stay here as you choose. Fm going to find 
out what did frighten you.” 

With difficulty he loosened the frenzied 
grasp of the Indian and, with Frank beside 
him, hurried down stream in the direction 
whence Joseph had come. 

But Joseph was even more fearful of being 
left alone than of again facing the things which 
had driven him almost mad with terror, and 
cringing and trembling from head to foot, he 
kept pace with his two companions. 

For some distance the three hurried rapidly 
along the sandy shore of the river and then, 
coming to a tiny cove, Mr. Andrews suddenly 
stopped short and with a sharp exclamation 
of surprise gazed fixedly at the firm damp 
sand. And as Frank looked, he too started 
and drew a sharp, quick breath, while the In- 
dian cowered speechless with dread between the 
two. 

What they saw was enough to fill the stout- 
est heart with nameless fear. Plainly im- 
pressed upon the sand were gigantic human 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


183 


footprints; but were they human? No trace 
of toes were there but instead each footmark 
terminated in two deep, claw-like impressions! 
Frank and Mr. Andrews looked at one another 
in blank amazement and with fast beating 
hearts, and each read in the other’s eyes the un- 
spoken question that was in their thoughts. 

Though they had come so suddenly upon 
the inexplicable and had been brought face to 
face with the unbelievable, yet neither for a 
moment believed there was anything supernat- 
ural about the weird, unnatural, incomprehen- 
sible footprints, and the very mystery of the 
matter added to their determination to dis- 
cover what unknown creature had trod the sand 
so recently and had so terrorised Joseph. 

And as Mr. Andrews crept cautiously for- 
ward, following the trail that led towards a 
brush-covered point a hundred yards distant, 
Frank kept silently by his side while the Are- 
kuna, too frightened to utter a sound, and per- 
haps somewhat reassured by the others’ be- 
haviour, maintained his place between them. 

As they reached the thicket, which extended 
almost to the water’s edge, a whiff of smoke 


184 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


was borne to them and from beyond the bar- 
rier came the sound of guttural voices. 

With the utmost caution Mr. Andrews 
crawled to the edge of the growth and Frank’s 
spine tingled, and his breath came short and 
fast as, parting the canes, they gazed through 
at what lay beyond. 

Before them was a little lagoon or backwater, 
landlocked and hidden from the river by a 
wooded ridge of sand, and from its landward 
side a little grassy clearing extended to the 
verge of the forest. But neither Frank nor Mr. 
Andrews gave heed to the surroundings of 
the spot, for instantly their gaze was riveted 
upon the scene that met their horror-stricken 
eyes within a score of yards of their hiding 
place. Squatting upon the grass about a fire 
were three enormous, naked beings ; their skins 
as black as ebony; their heads covered with 
masses of coarse red hair, and a thick mane of 
the same colour springing from their backs and 
shoulders. No wonder Joseph had fled terror- 
stricken at sight of them; no wonder he had 
vowed that he had seen Didoes and Horis; for 
there — in living flesh and blood — were the half- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


185 


human creatures exactly as described by fable 
and tradition. 

But even these monstrous, repulsive beings 
attracted less attention and struck less terror 
to the fast-beating hearts of the watching white 
men than the gruesome object roasting above 
the fire, for, spitted like a fowl upon a stout 
stake, was the flayed and disemboweled body 
of a man! Frank grew faint at the fearful 
sight, and his fear gave way to nausea, but 
still he stared, unable to withdraw his eyes from 
the cannibals and their sizzling human victim. 
And then his glance fell upon another object, 
cast carelessly to one side upon the grass, and 
instantly he knew whose corpse was to provide 
a feast for the monsters. Grinning up at the 
sky was a severed head and the bloody, wrin- 
kled features were those of the Acuria Piai- 
man! 

Then the spell which riveted Frank to the 
spot was broken as Mr. Andrews touched his 
arm and silently drew back, but at this instant 
Joseph too caught a glimpse of the scene be- 
yond the thicket and, utterly unable to control 
his terror at the sight, emitted a shriek of mor- 


186 THE GOLDEN CITY 

tal fear and, turning, dashed madly up the 
beach. 

His cry was echoed by a wild, demoniacal yell 
from the cannibals and Frank and Mr. An- 
drews, knowing their presence was discovered, 
ran after Joseph as they had never run before. 

Well they realised that their only hope lay 
in reaching the woodskin and taking to the 
river ere their pursuers overtook them, and ter- 
ror speeded their flying feet. 

Nearer and nearer came the brute-like cries 
of the cannibals. Now the canoe was in sight 
and Frank saw Joseph striving to push it to 
the water’s edge. The race might yet be won 
and then — a bit of driftwood buried in the sand 
caught Mr. Andrews’ foot, he tripped, and 
plunged headlong on the sand. 

And then Frank did a brave, heroic thing. 
He knew that ere Mr. .Andrews regained his 
feet their pursuers would be upon them; he 
could not escape and leave his friend to an aw- 
ful fate and, without hesitation, he stopped, 
dropped on one knee, brought his gun to shoul- 
der and fired at the foremost of the oncoming 
cannibals. The range was short, the gun was 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


187 


loaded with a heavy charge of coarse shot and 
at the report, the thing — it could scarce be 
called human — doubled up and fell writhing on 
the sand. Instantly its companions stopped 
and hurried to it, and then Frank witnessed a 
sickening sight for, as the wounded monster 
screeched with pain and clutched at the wounds 
in his hairy breast, one of the others raised a 
heavy club and brought it crashing on his head, 
while the third plunged a stone-headed spear 
into his throat. It took but the fraction of a 
moment; in a flash Frank was up and away, 
but in the brief instant that he had faced the 
fearful beings behind him, and had seen the 
brutal murder of their wounded, he had no- 
ticed a strange thing. The creatures, whoever 
they were, had no fingers or toes. Their hands 
and feet terminated in two strong , talon-like 
claws ! 

But Frank’s bravery and presence of mind 
had saved the day; brief as the respite had 
been it had enabled Mr. Andrews to rise and 
gain the canoe and, as Frank dashed up and 
sprang in, the craft was shoved from the beach, 
paddles were plied furiously and, ere the baf- 


188 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


fled monsters gained the shore, the woodskin 
and its occupants were beyond their reach and 
speeding down stream as fast as current and 
paddles could carry them. 

“Oh, I can't believe they’re real,” exclaimed 
Frank, as he regained his breath. “They’re 
too awful. They were actually the two-fingered 
men of the old fables.” 

“Didoes in flesh and blood — devils incar- 
nate,” agreed Mr. Andrews with a shiver. “God 
grant they haven’t boats hidden down stream.” 

“We must pass that awful spot with the 
fire,” cried Frank; “ did you see who it was 
they had killed?” 

Mr. Andrews nodded. “Yes,” he answered; 
“no one will ever know how it happened. The 
Piaiman’s charms must have failed him this 
time. Poor chap, he told the truth when he 
said the forest beyond the river was the home 
of Didoes.” 

“I’ll never doubt anything again,” declared 
Frank, and then — a note of terror in his voice 
— he exclaimed, “Look! O Heavens! There 
are more of them.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


As Frank spoke the canoe swept around a 
bend and, just beyond, a dyke or spit of rocks 
extended from the shores across the stream. 
Between the ledges the water boiled white and 
foaming, but in one spot, about midway be- 
tween the shores, was an open space and here 
the river poured smoothly, but with terrific 
speed, between the barriers. All this was seen 
at a glance, but more terrifying than the rap- 
ids, were the figures which had occasioned 
Frank’s cry. Like gigantic apes they were 
leaping from rock to rock of the reef and 
yelling like fiends. That they were the same 
misshapen, monstrous creatures as those from 
whom the fugitives had escaped was evident, 
and Frank’s blood ran cold as he realised that 
the canoe must pass within a few yards of the 
nearest of the savage beings. There was no 
alternative; to check the canoe in the current 

of midstream was impossible; if they ran the 
189 


190 THE GOLDEN CITY 


craft ashore the cannibals would be upon them 
in a moment, and their only chance lay in run- 
ning the rapids and risking death from the river 
as well as at the hands of the two-fingered men. 

Already Joseph had headed the woodskin 
for the single large opening among the rocks 
and the next instant they were in the suck of 
the racing waters, and were shot forward at 
dizzying speed. 

Had Joseph lost his head for the fraction 
of a second, had his hands trembled or his 
nerves failed him, disaster would have been cer- 
tain. But the Arekuna was no coward. He 
had been wofully frightened when he had first 
seen the weird, unnatural beings, to be sure, 
for he had thought them supernatural — evil 
spirits or devils — and superstition had robbed 
him of reason. But once he had realised that 
they were mortal and had seen that they could 
be killed like other men, he no longer feared 
them more than he would dread a deadly ser- 
pent, a wounded jaguar or any other grave 
danger to which he was accustomed. 

And so, as with the consummate skill of the 
born riverman, he guided his frail craft through 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


191 


the unknown rapids, his thoughts were more 
of the rocks and whirlpools than of the howl- 
ing, naked, wild men, and his muscles were as 
steel and his keen eyes never strayed from the 
swirl of waters ahead. As the canoe swept 
by the first rocks the nearest cannibal was 
within a dozen yards and, with a howl of rage, 
he lifted his club as if to hurl it at the passing 
boat. But the heavy weapon never hurtled 
through the air, for Frank — risking a capsize 
by his act — fired at the creature as they swept 
by and, at the sting of the shot, the savage 
dropped club and spear and tumbled, scream- 
ing, into the stream. And at the flash of the 
gun and the noise of the explosion, his fel- 
lows became terror stricken and, turning about, 
rushed madly towards the shore. 

The next moment the canoe had passed the 
rapids, it shot forth upon the wide and tranquil 
waters beyond, and the voyagers breathed a 
sigh of relief and thankfulness for their safe 
escape. 

But their perils were not over. The strange 
half-human cannibals had fled to the shore in 
terror at the unwonted report of the gun, for 


192 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


never had they seen or heard firearms before, 
but now they had regained some measure of 
their brute courage and were racing down 
stream along the banks. 

“Do you suppose they’re going to attack us 
again?” cried Frank. “We’re far beyond their 
reach and we’re gaining on them. But good- 
ness, can’t they run!” 

“I’m afraid they’re planning to trap us,” 
replied Mr. Andrews gravely. “There may 
be another falls which we can’t run or they may 
have boats hidden near. They wouldn’t tear 
after us that way unless they felt sure we could 
not escape. By the way, did you notice that 
some of them had normal hands and feet?” 

“No, I didn’t,” admitted Frank. “I wasn’t 
thinking about such things. I expect I was 
too frightened.” 

“Don’t talk about fear, Frank,” exclaimed 
Mr. Andrews, “after the way you saved me 
back there, I’ll never believe you know the 
meaning of the word. You were probably too 
intent on bowling that big fellow over to see 
that he had ordinary toes and fingers, but I 
saw them. I believe only a few of the tribe are 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


193 


two-fingered — it’s probably an inherited de- 
formity and has been perpetuated for count- 
less generations. Like as not the two-fingered 
chaps are looked upon as superior beings. I’ve 
always had such an idea in regard to these peo- 
ple, ever since I read the first stories about 
them. I wish they weren’t so everlastingly 
bloodthirsty — they’d prove most fascinating 
subjects for study. Too bad ” 

His words were cut short by a cry from Jo- 
seph and instantly the others saw the reason 
for his startled shout. 

They had been carried around an S -shaped 
bend and now, directly ahead, rose a precip- 
itous wall of rock towering above the river 
for a hundred feet or more. Straight towards 
this cliff flowed the stream to where it disap- 
peared in a narrow, black opening — a yawning 
rift — in the solid granite and cleaving the 
precipice from base to summit and with the 
overhanging cliffs almost meeting and form- 
ing a veritable tunnel. 

“It’s the Piaiman’s ‘hole in the ground,’ ” ex- 
claimed Frank. 

“And what those black rascals are counting 


194 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


on,” said Mr. Andrews; “look, they’re gather- 
ing where the stream narrows. We’ve got to 
land where they can get us or else go into that 
black hole. Lord! what a choice.” 

“And even if we do take the tunnel they can 
still get us,” cried Frank. “See, they’re climb- 
ing up the rocks about the hole like monkeys.” 

But despite the awful dangers, the fearful 
risks of entering the black, mysterious opening 
— that led, none knew where or to what — the 
three occupants of the canoe had no choice. 
Even had they wished to land and take their 
chances with the savages, rather than with the 
cliff -walled river, they were powerless to do so. 
As Frank spoke the canoe was seized as by 
unseen hands, it was rushed forward with the 
fearful current that swept towards the open- 
ing in the mountain and, menaced on every side 
by the ape-like savages, the boat sped straight 
as an arrow for the gorge. 

In an instant, as it seemed, they were close 
to the foremost of their enemies; each moment 
they expected a shower of rocks and missies 
to strike them down and destroy their frail 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


195 


craft, and then a strange and inexplicable thing 
happened. 

With one accord the black, repulsive beings 
dropped their crude weapons, their savage cries 
gave way to a mournful, dismal wail and, 
throwing themselves face-down, they grov- 
elled on the ground as though the occupants 
of the canoe were deities to whom they paid 
obeisance. 

“Impressive sort of farewell,” shouted Mr. 
Andrews, raising his voice to make it audible 
above the roar of water and the dirge-like wail 
of the cannibals. “Hold tight, Frank, and 
trust to Providence — good-bye, lad, if we never 
get out.” 

Frank’s voice choked, but with a brave eff ort 
he answered, “Good-bye, Mr. Andrews, good- 
bye, Joseph, don’t ” 

His voice was drowned in a roar as the craft 
shot into the black hole and semi-darkness, 
while the rushing of the waters echoed and re- 
verberated from the rocky walls with a noise 
like thunder. 

“Duck your heads,” screamed Mr. Andrews, 
though his voice came faint through the tur- 


196 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


moil, and Frank was just in time, for, as he 
crouched low in the canoe, he felt his back 
scrape the overhanging jutting rocks. 

How long they sped onward through the 
Stygian canon none of them ever knew, but 
to them — crouched in the bottom of the canoe, 
carried by the will of the flood, fearful lest 
each moment they would plunge over the brink 
of a cataract or would be ground to bits upon 
jutting rocks, — they seemed to be hours with- 
in the bowels of the mountain. 

Then at last, from Mr. Andrews in the bow, 
there came a glad shout: “Sunlight ahead,” 
he cried, “we’re almost through.” 

Frank raised his head above the gunwale of 
the woodskin and peered ahead. Sure enough, 
in the distance, and seemingly but a pin-point 
in size, was a spot of light. Rapidly it grew 
in size. They could see the water dancing and 
sparkling beyond the walls of the tunnel — 
and in a moment more they swept out of dark- 
ness into daylight, into the clear, sweet, blessed 
air with the blue sky overhead, and all glorious 
with the golden glow of the setting sun. 

They looked about in wonder. Behind them 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


197 


rose the towering cliff with the cleft through 
which they had been borne and before them 
stretched the river. But where were the vast 
forests, the impenetrable bush or the broad sa- 
vannas they had expected to see? On every 
side rose precipices and cliffs of red and yellow 
rock; their strata worn and carved into fan- 
tastic forms. Great spire-like pinnacles, fluted 
and ornate columns, battlements and enormous 
grottoes were everywhere. Slender pillars bore 
titanic boulders and slabs balanced upon their 
summits, huge rocks were poised at the very 
verges of precipices, as if about to crash thun- 
dering downward at a breath, and slender 
arches spanned deep rifts black with shadows, 
and through which swirled flashing rivulets. 
Straight from the riverside the strange rock- 
forms rose; sometimes sheer for half a thou- 
sand feet; sometimes receding in terrace after 
terrace, and often overhanging and leaving 
but a mere thread of sky between their frown- 
ing brows. But not a tree was visible. 
Here and there in crevices of the rocks grew 
sharp-pointed, fleshy-leaved agaves; climbing 
cacti draped many of the cliffs and, where 


198 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


water trickled down the rocks, strange and 
brilliant orchids clustered in marvellous pro- 
fusion. 

“It’s perfectly wonderful,” cried Frank. “I 
never saw or imagined anything so utterly wild 
and grand except the Grand Canon and this 
is a combination of that and the Garden of the 
Gods.” 

“I’ve never seen them,” said Mr. Andrews; 
“it’s more like the summit of Roraima than any 
spot I’ve ever seen. But, of course, it’s many 
times as large and isn’t damp and cold like 
the mountain top.” 

Greatly as the travellers were fascinated 
by the strange and interesting spot in which 
they had so unexpectedly found themselves 
they could spare little time in admiration of 
their surroundings, for the sun had dropped 
below the cliff tops, the shadows were already 
filling the canon and it was imperative to find 
a place in which to pass the night without de- 
lay. Presently they spied a tiny sand beach 
and running the canoe ashore the men hurried 
to gather bits of driftwood and, as darkness 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


199 


filled the huge rift in the mountains, supper 
was cooked over a blazing fire. 

As they ate their simple meal of buccaned 
game, Frank and Mr. Andrews talked of the 
marvellous adventures through which they had 
so recently passed. 

“Why do you suppose they behaved so 
strangely just as we were within their reach?” 
asked Frank. 

“I’m not sure,” replied Mr. Andrews, “but 
I think I can guess. My idea is that they con- 
sider the tunnel the entrance to another world 
— the abode of spirits perhaps. They had 
never seen white men or heard a gun and 
such strange things, coupled with our making 
directly for the tunnel, convinced them we were 
supernatural and caused them to fall down and 
worship us, or to beg forgiveness for attacking 
us, perhaps.” 

“That hadn’t occurred to me,” said Frank, 
“but I expect you’re right. In that case we’re 
safe in here. I wish they’d kowtowed to us 
sooner, though.” 

“I’m quite confident that we’re safe here,” 
declared the other; “I doubt if any man has 


200 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


ever been in this canon before — at least by the 
route we came — and for all we know the exit 
may be by tunnel also. It’s a weird, wild place 
and unlike anything else in Guiana. The 
maps show a cluster of mountains somewhere 
in this vicinity, but I never dreamed they were 
anything of this character.” 

“Nor that red-headed, two-fingered canni- 
bals dwelt in that forest,” suggested Frank. 

“True enough,” agreed Mr. Andrews, “but 
do you know, Frank, those beastly people — I 
suppose they are people, though they’re mighty 
near beasts— trouble me. I’ve been thinking 
about them ever since we first sighted them.” 

“They troubled me a lot more while they 
were after us than they do now,” declared 
Frank. “I never want to see them again.” 

“You don’t understand what I mean,” said 
Mr. Andrews; “who they are is what troubles 
me. They’re certainly not Indians — their 
skins are too black and their features are dif- 
ferent.” 

“Not to mention their hair. Did you ever 
hear of a red-headed Indian?” added Frank. 

“That’s of little consequence — they may dye 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


201 


or bleach their hair — some of them had black 
hair,” continued Mr. Andrews, “or, again, 
their red hair may be abnormal, like their mal- 
formed hands and feet. Fm trying to think 
where they came from originally.” 

“They might be descendants of runaway 
slaves, like the Bush Niggers of Surinam you 
told me about,” suggested Frank. 

Mr. Andrews shook his head: “No, in that 
case they would have been of recent origin. As 
you know yourself, the earliest discoverers de- 
scribed them — though up to to-day I’ve always 
thought such tales largely imagination. No, 
I’ve formed a different theory — I’m firmly con- 
vinced these creatures are the real aborigines 
of the continent, or perhaps of the new world. 
A low, primitive type which has been exter- 
minated by the more intelligent Indians — who 
probably migrated from Asia — save for a 
small, isolated community which has managed 
to survive in this district until the present time. 
There’s a marvellous field for investigation here 
for an ethnologist.” 

“Well, ethnologists are welcome to investi- 
gate all they want, but in my opinion they’d 


202 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


better wear armour and carry machine guns 
when they begin their studies,” declared Frank, 
and added, “it’s too bad the Bucks didn’t finish 
their job and wipe out the whole crowd. At 
any rate Fm glad I stopped two of ’em from 
surviving longer. If those brutes are the real 
genuine Americans they’re nothing for the 
country to be proud of.” 

Mr. Andrews laughed heartily. “Who’s 
lacking in romance and imagination, now?” he 
asked, banteringly. “Can’t you see the rush of 
missionaries to these benighted heathens, once 
their whereabouts are known, and the value 
they’ll be to Science? Why, Frank, it’s as ro- 
mantic as anything you could wish.” 

“I can picture those missionaries rushing in- 
to these heathens’ stomachs,” replied Frank 
grimly; “I’ll bet they’ll never be as valuable 
to scientists as the scientists will be to them. I 
can’t see much romance in being skinned and 
eaten.” 

“You’re hopeless,” laughed Mr. Andrews, 
“but I confess I didn’t appreciate their ethno- 
logical interest while they chased us up that 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


203 


beach. You’re quite right, my boy; they are 
a rum lot.” 

“I wonder what that old Piaiman was doing 
when they caught him?” remarked Frank a 
little later, as curled in the shelter of a little 
cave the two companions settled themselves for 
the night. 

“I’ve a sneaking suspicion he was waiting for 
us,” replied Mr. Andrews with a yawn, “but 
we’ll never know.” 

“Perhaps he was going after more gold,” 
suggested Frank sleepily; “I’d like to know 
where that gold mine is.” 

But Mr. Andrews was snoring and a mo- 
ment later Frank also was fast asleep. 


CHAPTER XIV 


The summits of the peaks were aglow with 
rosy light when Mr. Andrews roused Frank, 
but the sun had not yet peeped above the 
canon’s walls when, breakfast over, the canoe 
was shoved from shore and the voyage down 
the river was resumed. 

There was little or no current to the stream 
and the occupants of the woodskin plied their 
paddles steadily. The river wound and twisted 
in a bewildering manner between its rocky con- 
fines; often dividing and flowing to either side 
of lofty water-worn pillars of rock, and every 
turn revealed new and more fantastic forms 
of nature’s carvings. 

For hour after hour they paddled through 
this wild wonderland. Sometimes they saw 
stupendous cataracts plunging downward from 
the summits of the cliffs. Once the stream 
broadened into a lake-like expanse dotted with 

innumerable rocky pillars standing above the 

204 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


205 


water, like ruined columns of some submerged 
city, and again they passed beneath a mighty 
natural bridge which spanned the broad river 
in one grand majestic arch. 

Sundown found them still hemmed in by 
lofty cliffs, but the mountains were less pre- 
cipitous and trees and verdure clothed the hol- 
lows and the river banks with a mantle of 
green. Again they camped beside the stream, 
using the last of their buccaned meat for sup- 
per, but this caused them little worry, for fish 
were in the river and, ere dark, Joseph secured 
enough for breakfast. 

Before dawn they were again upon their way 
and soon afterwards the sound of falling water 
reached their ears and, passing a jutting point, 
they found the river ended in an abrupt line, 
clear-cut against the sky beyond. 

“A cataract,” exclaimed Frank and instantly 
the canoe was run ashore, and the three occu- 
pants made their way along the bank to ex- 
amine the falls which barred their further 
progress. 

The brush was thick and dense, numerous 
large trees towered above the lower palms and 


206 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


vines and the ground was rough and broken. 
Steadily they pushed forward, cutting a nar- 
row path as they proceeded, and ever guiding 
their footsteps by the sound of the waterfall 
which was now close at hand. 

At last, breaking through the final barrier, 
they came forth upon a narrow, rocky shelf 
and cries of wonder issued from their lips. At 
their feet the cataract plunged downward for 
perhaps a hundred feet — a splendid sight — but 
they gave it little heed, for their gaze was riv- 
eted upon the scene which lay before them. 

Surrounded by low, forest-covered hills was 
a broad, green valley, and in its centre — like a 
bowl of silver — gleamed a circular lake a mile 
or more across. And the likeness to a bowl 
was still further heightened by a barren ridge 
of white which encircled the sheet of water and 
stood forth, sharp and clear, against the green- 
ery about. Across the plain from the cataract 
flowed the river to the lake and from it, on the 
further side, there flowed another stream 
which, forking, disappeared in two glistening 
ribbons in the distant forest. 

But the fair valley, the placid lake within 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


207 


its crater-like hollow, and the winding rivers 
were but accessories — a lovely setting for that 
which held the attention of those upon the cliff 
and caused them to stare dumbfounded at what 
they saw. 

Close to the borders of the lake, and spread- 
ing like a great fan across the plain, were the 
broad streets and innumerable buildings of a 
great city and, through the rift in the hills 
above the cataract, the rays of the rising run 
fell full upon the city by the lake and the mas- 
sive buildings gleamed in the light like bur- 
nished gold. 

“Manoa — the Golden City,” whispered 
Frank in awe-struck tones. 

“And in ruins,” replied Mr. Andrews. 

It was the truth beyond question. No sign 
of life was there, no moving figures thronged 
the silent streets of the town and, even from 
where they stood, F rank could see that many of 
the buildings were mere shapeless piles of 
crumbled masonry. 

“It’s like a dream — it doesn’t seem possible,” 
exclaimed Frank after a long silence; “I can’t 
believe my eyes.” 


208 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


“It’s real enough,” declared Mr. Andrews, 
“marvellous as it is. Hello ! what’s the matter 
with Joseph?” 

So intent had they been upon the scene 
spread beneath them that they had quite for- 
gotten their Indian comrade, but now they 
turned to find Joseph prostrate, as if in adora- 
tion of the valley and the city. 

“What ” commenced Frank in surprise, 

but Mr. Andrews silenced him with a gesture. 
“Don’t disturb him,” he whispered, “he’s wor- 
shipping the gods of his ancestors — but he’s 
no more idea of what he’s doing or why he’s do- 
ing it than you have. It’s a marvellous case of 
reversion to long-forgotten, ancestral habit. 
Don’t ask him anything — take it as a matter 
of course. He’ll furnish an interesting study 
before we’re done I’ll wager.” 

At this moment Joseph moved as if to rise 
and instantly his two companions turned away 
and continued to look towards the long-for- 
gotten, long-sought city until the Indian again 
took his place by their side. 

“It’s no use trying to get the woodskin down 
there,” declared Mr. Andrews; “we’ll have to 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


209 


climb down and make a new canoe on the river 
yonder. Come along, Frank, I’m anxious to 
get a closer view of the place.” 

Suiting liis actions to his words, Mr. An- 
drews commenced clambering down the cliff 
and Frank and Joseph followed. It was a hard 
and hazardous descent for the rock was soft 
and crumbling, the narrow ledges formed a 
most precarious footing, and, at every step, 
masses of loose rock were dislodged and went 
crashing down to the vegetation below. Jo- 
seph’s bare feet found little trouble in securing 
a grip upon the thread-like pathway, but the 
hard soles of the others’ shoes slipped and slid 
and a dozen times both Frank and Mr. An- 
drews came within an ace of being hurled to 
death as they made their way downward. 

But at last the bottom of the cliff was reached 
and the three stood upon the level floor of the 
plain and stopped to regain their breaths after 
their strenuous exertions. 

Within a stone’s throw of where they stood 
the cataract plunged in a great sheet of flash- 
ing water from the cliff top and before them 
the river flowed smoothly across the valley. 


210 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


From far above, the place had seemed as level 
as a floor and clothed with soft, short grass — 
a perfect lawn — dotted with clumps of palms 
and thick-growing trees. But now they found 
that what had seemed greensward was tough, 
long grass and rank-growing weeds through 
which ’twas scarcely possible to force their way. 

However, the shores of the stream afforded 
a fairly open way and, following along the 
river’s bank, they hurried across the valley to- 
wards the distant city by the lake. It was fur- 
ther than it had appeared from the cliff-top, 
but at last they saw the sloping rim of the bowl 
before them, with the deep cleft through which 
the river flowed. Here there was no space to 
walk beside the stream and, turning to one side, 
they started to clamber up the bank. Frank 
had thought the strange ridge composed of 
sand and pebbles when he had looked down 
upon it from afar, but now that they had 
reached it he found it a tumbled mass of boul- 
ders, broken stone, pebbles and gravel; bare 
of vegetation and scintillating with heat from 
the sun, and he panted and perspired as he 
climbed the slope, crawling over the great 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


211 


rocks, slipping on loose stones and sinking into 
the powdery sand at each step. 

Suddenly Mr. Andrews stopped, reached 
down and picked up a dark rock-like object. 
He examined it carefully, and then, holding it 
towards Frank, asked if he knew what it was. 

Frank looked at it, took it in his hand and 
shook his head. “It’s heavy,” he said, “and it 
looks like metal of some sort. What is it?” 

“It’s a bit of a meteorite,” replied Mr. An- 
drews; “I think we’ve solved the mystery of 
the Piaiman’s magic fire-stone. It also solves 
the mystery of this lake and this ridge of rock. 
As far as I know there’s only one other such 
spot in the entire world. Frank, the hollow 
that contains this lake was formed by an enor- 
mous meteor.” 

“Formed by a meteor!” exclaimed Frank. 
“What on earth do you mean? How could a 
meteor make a lake?” 

“Did you ever hear of a place known as 
Meteor Crater in your state of Arizona?” asked 
Mr. Andrews. “I believe it’s also called Dev- 
il’s Mountain on account of the superstitious 
fear which the Indians had for it.” 


212 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


Frank answered in the negative. 

“Well, it’s one of the wonders of the world,” 
continued Mr. Andrews. “An enormous hole, 
hundreds of feet in depth, and surrounded by 
a circular mountain, the whole formed by some 
inconceivably huge meteor striking the earth in 
ages past. This ridge on which we stand is of 
exactly the same nature. These huge boul- 
ders and stones — even the fine sand — are the 
broken and crushed materials forced up by the 
meteor when it plunged from space into this 
valley. Unlike the Arizona crater this one 
is filled with water, however, and streams have 
cut through the rim. Otherwise they are alike 
as two peas.” 

“But how do you know a meteor made this?” 
asked Frank, who could scarcely conceive of 
a meteorite large enough to cause such stu- 
pendous results. 

“Partly by the fact that it could be produced 
in no other known manner, partly by the char- 
acter of the rocks and sand of the rim, but 
mainly by the fragments of meteoric iron 
scattered about,” replied Mr. Andrews. “That 
bit of metal you are holding is such a fragment 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


213 


and, no doubt, you can find many more by 
looking about. The greatest number are prob- 
ably buried under the lake, however.” 

Frank’s eyes turned to the barren waste 
about him as Mr. Andrews spoke, and he com- 
menced searching for stray bits of the meteor. 
Presently he spied a queer yellowish lump and 
picked it up. The next instant he gave a great 
shout: — The object he had found was a huge 
nugget of gold ! 

“I’ll bet this is the Piaiman’s gold mine,” 
cried the excited boy as, the first surprise of 
his find over, they commenced seeking dili- 
gently for more nuggets ; “do you suppose the 
gold came down in the meteorite?” 

“No,” replied Mr. Andrews, “but it’s easy 
to understand how the meteorite brought it 
here, nevertheless. There was doubtless a rich 
placer or pocket, or perhaps even a vein of gold 
hereabouts, and the blow of the meteorite 
threw the nuggets out with the rest of the 
debris. I shouldn’t wonder if you’re right 
about this being the Piaiman’s source of gold 
as well as iron. Hello! Here’s another nug- 
get.” 


214 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


For some time the three kicked and scraped 
at the sand and pebbles, for Joseph had joined 
in the search, but no more nuggets rewarded 
them. 

“I guess that’s all,” said Frank reluctantly. 
“Whew ! It’s hot work. Let’s go on up to the 
top. I’d almost forgotten about the city.” 

During their hunt for the nuggets they had 
unconsciously worked towards the summit of 
the ridge, and a dozen steps carried them to the 
top and in sight of the lake. 

With one accord all turned^ to the strange 
city, the nearest buildings of which were with- 
in plain view and scarce half a mile distant. 
Consumed with curiosity to visit this myste- 
rious city, Frank and Mr. Andrews hurried 
along the crater’s rim and while Joseph fol- 
lowed close behind he seemed ill at ease and 
hung back. 

“Me no likeum,” he exclaimed as they ap- 
proached the buildings which now proved to 
be cracked, broken and ruined. 

“Don’t be afraid,” replied Frank; and then, 
relapsing into talky-talky, he added, “What 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


215 


for no likeum? House all same dead, feller 
what livum all same dead; no can hurtum.” 

“Me tellum same place piai,” answered the 
Indian, “long time piai, all feller Buckman 
sabby.” 

“Well, I’m not afraid of the piai,” laughed 
Frank, “a lot of good it did that Acuria chap.” 

They were now abreast of the outlying build- 
ings and stopped to gaze about. From the dis- 
tant cliff by the cataract, the streets had ap- 
peared wide, straight and even and most of the 
buildings had seemed impressive and in per- 
fect condition but now, at the portals of the 
town, they found it scarce more than a pile of 
debris — a pitiful ruin of a once splendid city. 

The highways — once smoothly paved — were 
uneven, cracked, full of holes and chasms, and 
in many places choked by the fallen houses. 
The buildings, many of which had once been 
large and magnificent, were now askew, their 
walls cracked and crumbled, and their roofs 
fallen in, while their carved cornices and or- 
nate columns lay shattered on the pavement^ 
and Frank remarked that they looked as if 
they had been bombarded by modern artillery. 


216 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


Close to the ridge about the lake the devasta- 
tion seemed far greater than in the more dis- 
tant parts of the city, where many fine build- 
ings could be seen, apparently intact. Pres- 
ently Frank noticed several ruins, so broken 
down and half hidden beneath the hill of rocks 
and sand on which he stood that they seemed 
scarcely more than portions of the ridge itself. 

“That’s funny,” he exclaimed, calling Mr. 
Andrews’ attention to the partly buried build- 
ings. 

“It explains everything,” declared his com- 
panion; “I’ve been wondering how the city 
was destroyed — it didn’t look exactly as if an 
earthquake had ruined it — but now I under- 
stand. Your remark that it appeared as if it 
had been shelled was very apt. It has been 
bombarded, but by something far more terrible 
and powerful than any guns made by man. 
The city was destroyed by the meteor which 
made this crater. The shock of the impact 
must have been terrific and the gases and heat 
generated no doubt killed all the inhabitants 
instantly. I expect a large part of the town 
was completely destroyed and ground to bits 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


217 


where the meteorite struck. No wonder the 
place is in ruins. The effect of that mountain 
of metal falling from the sky must have been 
like the bursting of a shell multiplied millions 
of times. Try to imagine a shell, a thousand 
feet or more in diameter and weighing a mil- 
lion tons or more, and travelling faster than 
a rifle ball and white hot, and you’ll have some 
conception of what happened when the mete- 
orite fell.” 

“I can’t imagine it,” declared Frank, “but 
I can see its effects well enough. Now you 
speak of it the place does look like one of those 
shell craters I’ve seen in pictures of the Euro- 
pean War. How long ago do you suppose it 
all happened?” 

“It’s impossible to say,” replied Mr. An- 
drews ; “if this is the city of Manoa — and we’ve 
every reason to believe it is — the meteorite 
must have struck long before the discovery of 
America by Europeans, for the oldest tradi- 
tions mentioned the lake.” 

“Perhaps there was another lake here be- 
fore the crater was made,” suggested Frank. 

“Maybe,” agreed Mr. Andrews, “but even 


218 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


if that were so the descent of such a stupen- 
dous aerolite would have been recorded — why 
the light it made, as it travelled through the 
air, must have been visible for thousands of 
miles, and the detonation, as it struck, would 
have been felt over half the continent. Such 
an event would have been handed down in tra- 
ditions of the Indians, even if no Europeans 
witnessed it. No, in my opinion, it must have 
happened ages ago — a thousand years, five, 
even ten thousand years perhaps — very likely 
before the first* Indians roamed the forests of 
Guiana. But it proves one thing conclusively, 
and that is that this city is very ancient; per- 
haps the oldest city in the world. What archgeo- 
logical treasures may it not contain! Frank, 
my boy, we’ve stumbled upon the most marvel- 
lous discovery ever made in America.” 

“But why aren’t the ruins overgrown with 
jungle?” queried Frank irrelevantly. “There’s 
nothing but a little grass in the streets and a 
few trees growing here and there in the ruins.” 

“That’s puzzled me,” replied Mr. Andrews. 
“I admit I can’t explain it. Perhaps it’s some- 
thing in the soil. All I know is that it’s so. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


219 


Come on ; let’s take a stroll through the lost city 
of Manoa.” 

Near where they stood, a wide avenue 
stretched away from the rim of the crater and 
half-scrambling, half-sliding down the steep 
declivity, the two reached the pavement of what 
had been the main street, where Joseph — very 
silent and uneasy — joined them. For a mo- 
ment they stood and looked about, filled with a 
vague awe at thus standing in this dead city of 
the past. 

“Isn’t it wonderful,” exclaimed Frank in a 
half whisper, “just to think of actually being 
here — here in the Golden City that so many 
men have lost their lives in seeking? But I 
thought Manoa was supposed to be covered 
with gold.” 

“So it was, in fable,” replied Mr. Andrews, 
also speaking in a low tone, “but no doubt that 
was poetic license, so to speak — the city is 
golden when the sun strikes on it at dawn. I 
expect its site was selected with reference to 
that — probably its inhabitants were sunwor- 
shippers or something of that sort.” 

They were now walking slowly along the 


220 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


avenue and peered into the various buildings 
they passed, but all were in ruins and the in- 
teriors were filled with fallen debris of stone 
and masonry. 

But the farther they proceeded from the lake 
the more intact were the edifices that lined 
the highway, and Frank exclaimed in wonder 
and admiration as they reached this portion of 
the city and he saw the beautiful carvings and 
elaborate decorations which covered the stone- 
work in many places. 

“It’s the strangest architecture I’ve ever 
seen or heard of,” declared Mr. Andrews ; “see 
that building” — he pointed to a huge edifice 
which occupied an entire square — “the walls 
lean outward like certain ruins in Yucatan, but 
in every other respect it’s absolutely different.” 

Frank examined the strange building with 
care. “Well, the chaps who built this were 
some masons,” he announced; “all the stones 
are actually dovetailed together.” 

“Yes, and no mortar was used to fasten 
them,” said Mr. Andrews; “I’d like to know 
what sort of tools they used. This stone is the 
hardest sort of diorite.” 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


221 


“Let’s go inside,” suggested Frank; “it 
doesn’t seem to have tumbled down much and 
I suppose it’s perfectly safe.” 

Acting on his suggestion the two entered the 
wide portal, flanked on either hand by weird 
carvings, while Joseph followed at their heels 
with a half-frightened, questioning expression 
on his face which caused Frank to declare that 
he looked like a “dog with its tail between its 
legs.” 

“That’s queer,” exclaimed Frank, as within 
the building he glanced curiously about; “the 
roof’s fallen in, but I don’t see any of it scat- 
tered on the floor.” 

“It never had a roof,” declared Mr. An- 
drews, who was carefully studying the walls; 
“or at least, if it did, it was merely an awning 
or light covering of some sort which has turned 
to dust centuries ago. See, the edges of these 
walls are perfectly smooth and finished — noth- 
ing’s been broken away there except in one 
spot; that’s where a stone came tumbling 
through. There ’tis over yonder.” He pointed 
to a large irregular boulder lying in one corner 
of the immense room. 


222 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


“I suppose that was tossed in here when the 
meteor struck,” said Frank as they wandered 
across the room and approached the object 
which had torn the gaping hole in the cornice. 

“Undoubtedly,” agreed Mr. Andrews. “By 
Jove! It’s a meteorite itself.” 

There could he no doubt of it and they ex- 
amined the aerolite with interest. “Isn’t it a 
whopper,” exclaimed Frank; “it’s gone clean 
through the floor.” 

“It would have gone out of sight beneath 
if it had struck with its full force,” declared 
Mr. Andrews ; “I expect it was merely a frag- 
ment, knocked off when the main mass hit the 
earth; just bounded up and fell in here.” 

From the large room which contained the 
meteorite numerous doorways opened and 
Frank and his companions entered one after 
another of these, or peered into their dim in- 
teriors, but all seemed empty save for little 
piles of dust and pieces of highly decorated 
pottery, many of which lay cracked and broken 
and half-buried in the dust heaps. 

“What do you suppose caused those piles 
of dust?” enquired Frank; “they couldn’t have 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


223 


blown in and I don’t see why they should be in 
such regular heaps.” 

“I believe they are all that remain of 
wooden furniture,” replied Mr. Andrews. “The 
broken pottery points to that theory. Prob- 
ably the jars once stood upon tables or benches, 
which have crumbled away to dust, and the 
pots were broken as they fell with their sup- 
ports.” 

“I guess that’s right,” agreed Frank; “look 
at all these funny carvings.” He pointed to the 
intricate designs which covered the walls. 

“Those are hieroglyphs,” declared Mr. An- 
drews, examining the stones. “If we could 
only translate them we’d learn a great deal 
about the city. Many ruins in Central America 
are covered with similar picture-writings, but 
no one has ever yet been able to decipher the 
inscriptions, and no key has been discovered. 
When they do become legible — if they ever do 
— we’ll be able to obtain the true story of pre- 
historic America perhaps. Until then, it’s 
mainly guesswork.” 

“Well, this isn’t half as interesting as I ex- 


224 THE GOLDEN CITY 

pected,” declared Frank. “Goodness! What’s 
that?” 

They were passing a dark aperture — a low, 
narrow doorway in the wall — and from within 
came a short, half-smothered cough. 

Frank felt a nervous chill sweep over him. 
It was so silent and dead and spooky that the 
unexpected sound startled them both, and they 
stood there, staring into the darkness, not 
knowing what they might see. Then once 
more the cough broke the awed silence and 
Frank grasped his companion’s arm convuls- 
ively. 

“There,” he exclaimed in a hoarse, fright- 
ened whisper; “look! I see it — wha — what is 
it?” 

Their eyes had now grown accustomed to the 
darkness and, peering within the tomb-like 
chamber, they saw a dim, shadowy something 
crouching close to the floor and stealthily mov- 
ing across the room. 

“I see it,” whispered Mr. Andrews, him- 
self far more nervous than he would like to 
admit; “I don’t know what ’tis — perhaps 
it’s ” 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


225 


“Tiger,” exclaimed Joseph so suddenly that 
both the others jumped. “Me smellum. Look, 
seeum eyes.” 

In the blackness gleamed two green, lumi- 
nous balls and Frank, without stopping to 
think of consequences, raised his gun and fired 
a charge of buckshot point-blank at the gleam- 
ing eyes. 

There was a deafening roar as the building 
echoed to the report of the gun; bits of ma- 
sonry came rattling down; there was an 
awful scream; Frank was bowled heels over 
head as something struck him in the chest, 
and Joseph uttered a piercing shriek. 


CHAPTER XV 


Frank scrambled to his feet, gasping with sur- 
prise and fright. Mr. Andrews was just ris- 
ing from the floor where he had fallen and 
Joseph was seated a few feet away, gazing 
about in a dazed manner. 

“What the ” began Frank and then he 

gave a lusty shout: “I got him,” he cried, and 
sprang forward. Stretched upon the floor be- 
yond the Indian was an immense black jag- 
uar. 

“Bully for you,” exclaimed Mr. Andrews; 
“but that chap came near getting us instead. 
He knocked us over like tenpins, but he didn’t 
injure any of us as far as I can see. He 
didn’t frighten me half as much as your gun- 
shot, however. Don’t shoot inside one of these 
ruins again, my boy. You might bring the 
whole place about our heads — my heart was 
actually in my mouth as those pieces of stone 
came rattling down.” 


226 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


227 


“ I didn’t think of that,” admitted Frank 
apologetically; “I’ll be more careful hereafter. 
But isn’t he a beauty? I’ve got my tiger after 
all.” 

“Yes, he’s certainly a fine one,” agreed Mr. 
Andrews; “but how about eating? It’s past 
noon and we’ve had nothing since dawn. I 
don’t expect jaguar is very palatable, but I 
guess we’ll have to dine off one of this fellow’s 
steaks.” 

Joseph had dragged the jaguar to the door 
and was already busy skinning it, and Frank 
and Mr. Andrews wandered about seeking for 
fuel. 

“We’ll have to go outside the city to find 
wood,” said Frank, after they had searched dil- 
igently for some time. “There’s not a stick of 
dry wood about here.” 

“It’s not very far to those trees by the 
stream yonder,” replied Mr. Andrews; “it will 
he easier to carry meat there than to bring fuel 
here, and besides we need water. We’ll wait 
until Joseph has skinned the beast and cut off 
some meat and then we’ll all go over and 
lunch under the trees.” 


228 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


The Arekuna soon finished his work and, 
having spread the hide on the floor of the 
building, to await their return, the three started 
towards the river bank and the fringe of trees. 
But they were not fated to test the edible 
qualities of jaguar. Hardly had they reached 
the edge of the thicket when a flock of tina- 
mous fluttered up and three of the birds fell 
to the report of Frank’s gun. 

“We won’t have to starve here at any rate,” 
remarked Frank; “I’ll bet this valley is full 
of game and that there are plenty of fish in 
the streams. I’d like to stay here until we’ve 
explored every bit of the place. There must 
be treasure somewhere in the city and we 
might find it. Besides, there’s the gold in that 
ridge around the lake — why, there may be for- 
tunes there just waiting to be picked up.” 

“Perhaps there are,” assented Mr. Andrews; 
“and I’ve no doubt there is treasure in the city 
yonder. But it would be of no value to us 
at present. You forget we’re still lost and 
have a long way to go, and we’ll be obliged to 
travel over unknown rivers in a woodskin. We 


THE GOLDEN CITY 229 

couldn’t weigh ourselves down with gold, 
Frank.” 

“That’s so,” admitted the other reluctantly; 
“but we could come back for it later.” 

“Exactly,” said Mr. Andrews; “and the 
sooner we get away and reach the settlements 
the sooner we can return, properly equipped 
to explore this marvellous city and secure any 
treasure it may contain. We’ll have a look 
around this afternoon and then, to-morrow, we 
must begin work on a canoe. I hope to leave 
by the day following.” 

Lunch was soon over and once more the 
three made their way to the city. The long, 
straight avenue, which ran through the centre 
of the town, seemed the most promising place 
to investigate and, stopping frequently to poke 
about in the larger buildings which bordered 
the highway, they wandered on. 

Suddenly Mr. Andrews stopped, and, stoop- 
ing, examined a low bush growing from a crev- 
ice among the stones of a low wall. 

Then, turning towards Frank with a puzzled 
expression, he asked: “What do you make 
of this, Frank?” 


230 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


The other looked closely at the bush. Much 
to his surprise the leaves concealed a short, 
stout stem which had been cut off. 

“Why, it looks as if it had been chopped 
down,” exclaimed Frank; “but of course that’s 
impossible,” he added. 

“Is it?” remarked Mr. Andrews interroga- 
tively and looking fixedly at his companion 
with a peculiar expression. “I’m beginning to 
think nothing’s impossible,” he continued; 
“that bush has been cut as sure as fate, and 
what’s more it’s been cut recently — not longer 
ago than a few weeks at any rate. Frank, 
human beings have been in this city within the 
month. For all I know they may be here now. 
Heaven alone knows what we may run into.” 

“Say, you make me nervous,” exclaimed 
Frank, glancing about; “you really don't mean 
that the place is still inhabited.” 

“I don’t know what to think,” replied the 
other, as they proceeded more cautiously. 
“Hold on! What’s this?” 

Again he stopped, knelt down and examined 
the pavement. “Here’s further proof,” he de- 
clared, pointing to a crack between the stones 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


231 


where fresh earth showed. “Believe me or not, 
Frank, this street has been weeded. Look, 
there’s the dry grass that was pulled up from 
between the stones. No wonder the city’s not 
overgrown with jungle; the vegetation’s been 
destroyed as fast as it sprung up. Ghosts or 
spirits don’t chop down trees or pull up grass. 
There must be men of some sort here who are 
looking after this city. Frank, I feel as if I r d 
taken leave of my senses. It’s too mysterious 
and impossible to be true, but it’s an indis- 
putable fact, nevertheless.” 

“Piai!” ejaculated Joseph who had remained 
silent hitherto; “me tellum this feller place all 
same Piai.” 

Mr. Andrews looked at the Indian search- 
ingly. “There’s something back of all this,” 
he murmured, half to himself. “I’ll wager you 
know more about this place than we imagine,” 
he added, and then, addressing Joseph, he de- 
manded: “What you sabby all same this place? 
How come for sabby him Piai? You sabby 
this feller long time?” 

The Indian’s eyes shifted uneasily and he 
moved first one foot and then the other upon 


232 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


the ground: “No sabby long time,” he replied 
at last; “all same sabby Piai. All Buckman 
sabby Piai this place. All same me one C’rist’n 
Buckman. My fadder same way; all same be 
fadder fadder tellum long time gone this fel- 
ler place Piai. One feller gold man livum this 
side. He all same God for Buckman that 
time. Me tellum mebbe plenty Buckman be 
likeum gold man all same this time. Gold 
feller plenty piai; this feller place, all same 
whereum live, plenty piai.” 

“It’s the same old story of El Dorado,” re- 
marked Frank, as Joseph finished his long in- 
volved story; “but it doesn’t throw any great 
light on the present mystery.” 

Mr. Andrews was deep in thought. “I’m 
not sure of that,” he said after a moment. 
“Talky-talky has its limitations as a medium 
for expressing one’s ideas. If I’m not mis- 
taken, Joseph intends us to understand that 
formerly the Indians considered Manoa a sac- 
red spot — the abode of some heathen god whom 
he describes as the ‘gold man,’ and who was 
doubtless identical with the fabled El Dorado 
— and that even to-day some of the Bucks still 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


233 


worship him. There are many pagan Indians 
left and even those who are nominally Chris- 
tians often have a secret, lingering belief in 
the gods of their ancestors, as proved by our 
Arekuna’s behaviour when he first set eyes 
on this valley. Christianity’s a mighty thin 
veneer and barely skin deep with most of these 
Indians.” 

“I can understand that, now you explain it,” 
declared Frank, “but that doesn’t prove who 
the people are who pull up the grass and chop 
down the bushes here.” 

“I think it does,” replied Mr. Andrews; 
“I’m beginning to see light. I shouldn’t won- 
der if the Bucks who worship this place, — or 
the god who’s supposed to dwell here, — con- 
sider it their duty to look after the city and 
prevent it from being overwhelmed by the jun- 
gle. They may even make pilgrimages to the 
ruins at stated intervals. We whites know 
mighty little about our red brothers’ lives and 
ways. They keep their private affairs to them- 
selves, and we only know what they want us to 
know.” 

“But wouldn’t some of them have told about 


234 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


the city if they knew about it?” asked Frank; 
“I should think they’d have brought out gold 
at any rate. They’re all so poor that even a 
few nuggets would be a fortune to them.” 

‘‘That’s precisely what they wouldn’t do,” 
declared Mr. Andrews positively; “nothing 
could induce them to divulge the whereabouts 
of a spot they hold sacred. They know the 
whites would soon be here and take possession 
and their presence would be desecration. As 
for the gold, they are cunning enough to realise 
that a white man will go through anything in 
his lust for wealth, and the Bucks wouldn’t 
take the risk of being followed here by taking 
out the gold. Moreover, it’s probably sacred, 
or at least, Piai. We’ve proof enough that one 
Indian came here ; the Piaiman of the Acurias. 
If one, why not others? I’ll wager every Piai- 
man in Guiana knows of this spot. To them 
it’s like Mecca to the Mohammedans.” 

“It’s all very complicated and weird and 
mysterious,” declared Frank. “It seems too 
dreamy and impossible to be real. Hello ! here’s 
the end of the road.” 

As they had been talking, they had walked 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


235 


slowly along the broad avenue and now they 
discovered that they had reached the limits of 
the city and that the street ended at a massive 
building a few rods ahead. 

“Yes, and it appears to lead directly into 
that building,” remarked Mr. Andrews; “I be- 
lieve that’s a temple of some sort. There may< 
be something interesting inside.” 

Before them a flight of immense stone steps 
led up from the end of the avenue to an enor- 
mous doorway, and Mr. Andrews called 
Frank’s attention to the fact that it was wider 
at the top than at the bottom. 

“Looks as if it was bottom side up,” re- 
marked Frank. 

“It has some significance, I expect,” said 
Mr. Andrews; “the walls of this temple lean 
out, as did that other building where you killed 
the jaguar, but most of the buildings have per- 
pendicular sides.” 

“What’s that funny thing over the door?” 
asked Frank; “it looks like a cross.” 

“It’s a swastika,” replied Mr. Andrews; “I 
noticed the same design on some of the other 
buildings. It’s a mystic symbol and is known 


236 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


to have been used by nearly every race and 
nationality.” 

They had now entered the portal of the 
temple and found themselves in a short pas- 
sage ending in a flight of steps some ten feet 
in height. Mounting these steps they reached 
the top and stood spellbound at what they 
saw. 

They stood at the threshold of an enormous 
room, the walls and floor of which were of 
dark-green, polished stone, and lit only by a 
single narrow window facing the east. The 
chamber was in the form of a gigantic swastika 
and in the very centre — facing the doorway 
and the window, and seated upon a massive 
throne of black stone, sat a gigantic semi- 
human figure of burnished gold. 

“El Dorado,” whispered Frank, as the two 
stood gazing fixedly at the wonderful statue. 

“The Golden Man in very truth,” replied 
Mr. Andrews. 

As for Joseph, the Indian was again pros- 
trate upon the floor. 

“Do you suppose he’s really gold?” asked 
Frank, after a long silence. 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


237 


“Undoubtedly,” replied the other; “no other 
material would have remained untarnished for 
all these years. But the image may not be 
solid — possibly he’s stone, plated with gold, or 
he may be formed of thin sheets. Let’s have 
a look.” 

Stepping across the floor of the temple the 
two approached the strange golden god. 

At first glance it had appeared fashioned 
in human form, but as they slowly took note of 
details they found that ’twas a grotesque com- 
bination of man and beast. The head was that 
of a jaguar, but in place of the great cat’s teeth 
the wide-open mouth showed the two great 
fangs and forked tongue of a rattlesnake. In 
one hand the image held a carved staff, the 
other grasped a golden club, while a third arm, 
springing from the breast, supported a golden 
swastika. The body and legs were human, 
however, although curiously decorated and en- 
graved, and about the neck hung a string of 
huge, golden moons. 

Joseph, who had risen, had followed the 
other two, but instead of approaching the 
statue directly, he sidled to one side and stood 


238 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


silent and awed in the furthest alcove, or arm, 
of the swastika-shaped room. 

Once their first surprise was over, Mr. An- 
drews and Frank had commenced to examine 
the gold god, which towered above their heads 
for a dozen feet and more. Suddenly Mr. An- 
drews caught sight of some objects resting at 
the statue’s feet upon the black throne. 

“By Jove!” he exclaimed, “look at this, 
Frank; “here are a lot of flowers and fruits; 
they’re wilted and rotten, but they’ve not been 
here very long. Offerings left by the same 
chaps who chopped that bush and cleaned the 
street, I’ll wager. Hello! here’s something 
else.” Poking about among the decayed flow- 
ers strewn upon the dais he drew forth an elab- 
orately-carved wooden club. 

“I’d like to know what tribe this belonged 
to,” he muttered, examining the weapon care- 
fully; “perhaps Joseph will know. I’ll soon 
find out.” 

So saying, he walked across the floor towards 
the Indian who stood motionless, his eyes fixed 
upon the back of the god. Frank, meanwhile, 
had clambered upon the throne and was tap- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 239 

ping and examining the metal surface of the 
image. 

“Isn’t he the ugly old boy?” he exclaimed, 
as at close quarters he gazed at the repulsive 
head of the figure. “Talk about those two- 
fingered chaps; this fellow’s got them beaten 
to a frazzle for looks.” 

Then the third arm, with its shield-like swas- 
tika, attracted him and, reaching up, he 
grasped the superfluous limb. As he did so he 
uttered a cry of surprise — the arm moved 
downward at his touch. 

“Oh! I say,” he cried, “look, Mr. Andrews, 
this fellow’s extra arm’s loose. Just see here,” 
and as he spoke he peered around the side of 
the figure to catch a glimpse of his compan- 
ions. As he did so, his foot slipped; he 
clutched at the golden arm and uttered a 
piercing yell, for the arm swung outward with 
his weight and, at the same instant, his two 
comrades and the floor shot swiftly to one side 
and out of sight. Only a dark, blank wall 
was visible where the two men had stood but 
a moment before. 


CHAPTER XVI 


Dully, wonder ingly, uncomprehendingly, 
Frank stared at the spot where his friends had 
stood. It was so sudden, so unbelievable, so 
terrible that he was absolutely stunned, and for 
a space he stood there by the idol, unable to 
move or even to cry out. And then, as the 
enormity of the catastrophe dawned upon him, 
he leaped down and, dashing across the floor, 
beat his fists upon the cold stone wall and 
screamed his missing comrades’ names until 
hoarse. But no answer came from the mass- 
ive stonework, no sound replied, save the mock- 
ing echo of his shouts. His friends were gone ; 
swallowed up in some mysterious manner for- 
ever and he was left alone — alone with that 
awful, hideous, golden image in the ruined city 
of the dead. 

And with realisation of his utter helplessness 
and his overwhelming loss came a terrible fear 

and hatred of the idol and the dismal, tomb- 
240 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


241 


like temple and, turning, he rushed madly to- 
wards the entrance; his one thought to gain 
the open air and sunshine — anywhere away 
from the accursed spot. 

But no portal was there. The solid wall rose 
smooth and unbroken from the floor to the 
narrow window far above, and no crack nor 
crevice gave hint of where the doorway had 
been. Frank was caged, trapped, imprisoned, 
and he flung himself upon the pavement ut- 
terly beaten, discouraged and hopeless. 

Suddenly he started, trembling with min- 
gled hope and fear, for his ears had caught the 
faint sounds of human voices, but whether of 
friends or foes he knew not. Again he heard 
it and with a glad cry sprang to his feet, for 
the voice was that of Mr. Andrews. 

“Hello, Frank!” it cried; “we’re all right. 
Can you see me ? I can see you easily enough.” 
A merry laugh followed. 

Frank gazed about, mystified and perplexed. 
The words came from near at hand — from the 
centre of the temple he thought — but no sign 
of living being could he see. 


242 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


“I can’t see you,” he shouted; “where are 
you? What’s happened?” 

“We’re here,” came the answer; “inside of 
old El Dorado. I’m looking out through his 
mouth. Climb up and you’ll be able to see 
me. I don’t know what happened. First thing 
we knew we were carried into a small chamber 
with a flight of steps leading down to a pass- 
age. We hurried along, hoping to find a way 
out, and came to another stairway which 
brought us up here in the idol. Clever sort of 
arrangement those old chaps had. I expect 
you started things going by accident ; probably 
touched a secret spring on the statue.” 

Frank had now clambered upon the golden 
image and could look into its mouth. There 
was a small opening in the throat and from this 
came his friend’s voice, but the aperture was 
too small and dark to enable him to distinguish 
Mr. Andrews’ face. 

“It must have been the arm,” he exclaimed; 
“I grabbed it when I slipped and it pulled 
right down and you disappeared. The door 
to the temple has gone, too.” 

“The arm must connect with machinery in- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 243 

side here,” said Mr. Andrews. “Wait a min- 
ute and I’ll see.” 

Frank could hear him scrambling about 
within the image for a moment. “I’ve found 
it,” came in muffled tones; “there’s a lever in 
here with a chain hanging down below. Move 
the arm slowly and keep your eye on what hap- 
pens.” 

Frank grasped the arm, which projected 
horizontally from the figure’s breast, and 
pushed upward. It moved easily and, as he 
pressed upon it with one hand, he glanced first 
to one side of the room and then to the other. 

Slowly and silently a portion of the walls 
moved; the door was exposed and an opening 
appeared where Mr. Andrews and Joseph had 
disappeared. 

“Hurrah!” cried Frank; “the door’s half 
open and there’s a hole in the back of the 
room.” 

“Will the arm stay where ’tis now?” asked 
Mr. Andrews. 

Frank carefully released his hold, but the 
idol’s limb remained motionless. 


244 THE GOLDEN CITY 

“Yes,” he replied; “it doesn’t move unless 
I push it.” 

“All right,” said Mr. Andrews; “we’ll come 
out. Better hold onto that arm though. It 
might slip and I don’t fancy being caught by 
those moving walls.” 

Then the voice ceased and Frank, holding 
tightly to the golden arm, waited anxiously for 
his companions to appear. 

Minute after minute passed and Frank was 
getting nervous, when he heard the sound of 
footfalls and Mr. Andrews and Joseph 
stepped from the opening in the rear of the 
room. 

Frank leaped from his perch and rushed to 
greet them. 

“It took us longer to get out than to get 
in,” exclaimed Mr. Andrews; “there are sev- 
eral passages down there and we had trouble 
in finding the right one. You must have had 
a beastly fright, Frank.” 

“I did,” replied Frank; “I thought I’d never 
see you again and when I tried to run outside, 
and found the door shut, I went all to pieces — 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


245 


it was simply too awful for words, being shut 
up in this place with that idol.” 

“I’d like to know how the thing works,” de- 
clared Mr. Andrews presently, and approach- 
ing El Dorado; “whoever built this place was 
a splendid mechanic. I expect it’s simple 
enough, but it’s marvellous that any machinery 
should remain in good working condition for 
all these centuries. Climbing upon the statue 
B he moved the arm to its original position and, 
descending, examined the door and the spot 
where he had first stood. Then, returning, he 
pulled the arm down. Instantly the door closed 
and a section of the rear wall opened, a strip 
of floor slipped into the aperture and the 
opposite wall moved forward and closed the 
opening. There was no jar, no jolt, no sound 
as the ponderous masses of stone were shifted, 
and the closest scrutiny failed to reveal the 
joints cleverly concealed in the intricate carv- 
ings that covered the walls. 

“I’m for a look around down below,” an- 
nounced Mr. Andrews; “there’s some reason 
for this thing and I’d like to know how the 


246 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


apparatus operates. What do you say, Frank? 
Are you game to explore the passages?” 

“Rather!” replied Frank. “I’m wild to ex- 
plore the place. Perhaps the treasure’s down 
there. But suppose some one should come 
along and move the arm while we’re below. 
We’d be in a nice fix.” 

“No danger of that,” declared the other; 
“It’s to prevent that very thing that the chaps 
who lived here arranged to shut the only door 
when the secret way opened ; they didn’t want 
to be interrupted by visitors. But I’m not tak- 
ing any chances; I’m going to fasten the arm 
so it can’t move accidentally.” 

Soon the arm was secured in position, by 
means of Joseph’s bowstring, and the three 
companions entered the aperture in the wall 
and descended the narrow stone steps. 

Frank had expected to find it dark in the 
underground passage, but it was light enough 
to distinguish surroundings quite easily, and 
an investigation showed that narrow shafts ex- 
tended from the roof of the passage to the sum- 
mit of the temple walls. Mr. Andrews led the 
way to where the stairs ascended to the statue 


THE GOLDEN CITY 247 

and Frank, climbing up, peered forth through 
the idol’s mouth as had Mr. Andrews. 

But there was little to interest them in the 
statue itself and the party again descended 
and regained the passage beneath the temple. 
They soon found the heavy chain which con- 
nected with the lever and arm above, and by 
following this they came to the machinery 
which operated the masses of stone. To Frank 
it was a bewildering affair of wheels, levers and 
chains, but Mr. Andrews seemed to think it 
very simple. 

“An adaptation of the Spanish Windlass,” 
he declared, ‘‘in combination with duplex 
levers carefully balanced and adjusted by 
means of counterweights. I wonder what 
they’re made of. Looks like bronze. By Jove! 
it’s solid gold.” 

“Gold!” cried Frank; “why, if all those 
things are gold they must be worth millions. 
But I thought gold was too soft to use for 
such purposes.” 

“So it is, when pure,” replied his companion, 
who was busily examining the machinery. “But 
I expect this is an alloy, it seems almost as hard 


248 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


as steel. Do you know, Frank, I’m beginning 
to believe the people who lived here in Manoa 
knew a lot about some things that we don’t 
know. I’m going to follow these chains and 
see how those walls slide so easily.” 

The chains led through narrow, dark tun- 
nels and the explorers were compelled to crawl 
on hands and knees, feeling their way by touch- 
ing the massive links, while Joseph in the rear 
kept muttering, “Piai, piai,” as they pro- 
ceeded; but the others had become accustomed 
to his oft-repeated words and gave no heed 
to his remarks. 

Presently the tunnel opened into a large, 
dimly-lit room hewn from the rock, and Mr. 
Andrews uttered an exclamation of surprise 
as he glanced about. 

“No wonder those walls move so smoothly,” 
he cried; “they’re operated by toggle-joints 
and run on ball bearings !” 

“Well, that may be all very wonderful and 
interesting,” said Frank, “but 1 don’t under- 
stand machinery and I’d much rather be hunt- 
ing for treasure. Come along, Mr. Andrews, 
let’s go back and explore those other passages.” 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


249 


Mr. Andrews burst out laughing. “You are 
keen after treasure,” he exclaimed; “but there’s 
more treasure right here within sight than any 
two white men ever saw before. Why, Frank, 
my lad, that chain we followed would almost 
buy the Bank of England and that’s only one 
of half a dozen ; to say nothing of these levers 
and wheels and pulleys and shafts. How much 
wealth do you want?” 

“I’d quite forgotten that,” said Frank, look- 
ing about with a curious, bewildered expres- 
sion; “seeing it made into machinery this way 
it doesn’t seem like treasure. Besides, you said 
’twas an alloy, you know.” 

“So it is,” replied the other, “but it may 
be worth all the more for that, and it would be 
easy enough to separate the gold, probably. 
But come on. I’ve seen all I wanted of ‘how 
the wheels go round.’ We’ll have a look at the 
rest of the place now.” 

They soon retraced their way to the main 
passage and entered the first opening they 
saw. It was a narrow hallway and ended in a 
large vault or chamber, and piled around two 
sides of the room, were countless irregularly 


250 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


rectangular objects which gleamed dully in the 
faint light. 

“Here’s your treasure,” announced Mr. 
Andrews, lifting one of these. “Gold ingots, 
Frank, and enough to make you a millionaire.” 

Frank stood gaping, round-eyed, at the mar- 
vellous wealth that lay before him; “I — I can’t 
make it seem real,” he stammered: “Oh, dear! 
can’t we take it away with us ?” 

Mr. Andrews shook his head. “Not this 
trip, Frank. We can take some of it, perhaps 
— a few bars — but we can’t afford to risk our 
lives and safety by loading down a woodskin 
with gold. It’s been here for ages and there’s 
no fear of its vanishing before we can return.” 

Frank drew a long sigh of regret. “It’s too 
bad,” he declared; “but I know you’re right. 
Do you suppose the other rooms are all full of 
gold too?” 

“We’ll soon find out,” replied his companion 
and, reluctantly leaving the treasure chamber, 
Frank followed Mr. Andrews into the pas- 
sage. The next room was smaller than the gold 
vault and no piles of ingots were within, but 
several huge stone chests rested on the floor 


THE GOLDEN CITY 251 

and Frank hurried to the nearest and glanced 
inside. 

“Oh, look here,” he cried; “this chest is full 
of those funny gold moons.” 

“And these also,” exclaimed Mr. Andrews, 
who had been examining the contents of the 
other coffers; “you can take some of these, 
Frank, they’re not worth as much as the ingots 
but they’re as good as so many guineas and 
worth far more as specimens. Before we leave 
we’ll fill our pockets with them. Lord! what 
a find for an archaeologist.” 

“Perhaps there are still more things in the 
other vaults,” cried Frank, flushed and excited 
at their discoveries, and, followed by Mr. An- 
drews, he hurried to the next opening. But 
this vault was empty, and only one other open- 
ing could be seen in the passage. Entering this 
they were surprised to find that there was no 
room beyond, but that it was a narrow, wind- 
ing passage which soon became inky dark. 

“I wonder where this goes to,” remarked 
Frank, as they proceeded with the utmost cau- 
tion, feeling their way along the walls and 
carefully testing the floor at each step. 


252 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” re- 
plied Mr. Andrews from the darkness ahead; 
“I wish I had a torch, it’s black as a pocket 
in here.” 

Hadn’t we better turn back?” asked Frank, 
a few minutes later; “we must have gone 
pretty near a mile already. We may be lost 
if we keep on.” 

“No danger of getting lost,” Mr. Andrews 
replied; “the wall is unbroken. We can feel our 
way back all right. It does seem a long way, 
but I don’t believe we’ve gone half a mile. Take 
care, here’s a flight of stairs going up.” 

Slowly they mounted the stairs and a dim 
light appeared ahead; then they crossed an 
open space and reached more steps, upon which 
bright light was falling from above. 

“Well, we’re coming out somewhere,” ex- 
claimed Frank, greatly relieved. 

The stairs were steep and narrow, but at last 
they reached the top and came to a small room, 
into which the sun was streaming through a 
rough, broken hole in the masonry. 

Mr. Andrews reached the aperture and 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


253 


glanced out. “By Jove!” he exclaimed; “I 
never would have guessed it.” 

“Where are we?” cried Frank, hurrying to 
the other’s side and then he too uttered an 
exclamation of surprise. Beneath them was 
a large room and within plain sight upon the 
floor below was the jaguar’s skin. They were 
gazing through the opening in the cornice made 
by the meteor in the building where Frank had 
killed a jaguar! 

“O pshaw!” exclaimed Frank, his first sur- 
prise giving way to disappointment. “After 
all that trouble, just to come out on the roof 
here. What’s the use of the old tunnel any- 
way?” 

“I expect this building was some sort of tem- 
ple also,” replied Mr. Andrews. “Probably 
the old priests used to appear and disappear 
mysteriously, first in one place and then an- 
other. Or it may be they kept watch of what 
was going on through peep holes up here and 
the idol’s mouth. Or again, they may have 
worked the oracle act, like the old Romans and 
Greeks. It’s interesting, but not much use to 
us, as you say. There doesn’t seem any way 


254 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


of getting down here so we’d better go back. 
It’s getting late and we must hustle to find 
food and camp for the night.” 

Turning, they descended the stairway, felt 
their way back through the long tunnel, reached 
the passage under the idol in safety and once 
more emerged from their subterranean trip and 
came forth in the rear of El Dorado. Mr. 
Andrews mounted the throne, detached the 
string which secured the idol’s arm, pushed 
the limb up against the golden chest and leaped 
down. 

“Now for a hunt and a quiet night,” he said; 
“we’ve had enough of exploration for one day.” 

“But I didn’t fill my pockets with those 
moons,” complained Frank, “I just took a 
few.” 

“Never mind,” replied Mr. Andrews; 
“there’s no use in carrying them about while 
we’re here. When we’re ready to start we’ll 
come back and take what we can. Hello! 
What’s Joseph carrying?” 

Frank glanced at the Indian. “Why, it’s 
one of those gold bricks,” he exclaimed. 

Mr. Andrews chuckled. “Seems to have got 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


255 


over his fear of Piai,” he said; “Joseph isn’t 
quite enough pagan to let such a chance of 
easy wealth slip by.” 

The Indian, catching the other’s meaning, 
grinned sheepishly. “Me tellum mebbe Piai,” 
he said; “mebbe Piai, how can tell. All same 
me sabby this feller catchum plenty money.” 

His hearers laughed merrily. “Good for 
you, Joseph,” cried Frank. “You’ve an eye 
for the main chance all right.” 

“Talk about your Scotchmen,” exclaimed 
Mr. Andrews ; “our Arekuna friend is as canny 
as the best of them.” 

They had now reached the avenue and at 
once made their way into the thickets that cov- 
ered the valley. 

For some time they hunted in vain, but at 
last were rewarded by securing several large 
quail from a covey they flushed and, making 
their way to the river, prepared their evening 
meal while Joseph sought for fish in the stream. 
The fire was blazing merrily and the quail were 
broiling when he returned with two good-sized 
fish. 

“I suppose we’d better sleep in one of the 


256 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


buildings,” remarked Mr. Andrews; “It will 
be warmer and drier than out here.” 

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not,” 
said Frank; “I’m not afraid of ghosts or any- 
thing like that, but it’s too much like a grave- 
yard over there. I’d much rather sleep here 
under the trees.” 

“I don’t know but you’re right,” agreed Mr. 
Andrews; “it is kind of dismal and ‘spooky’ 
yonder. Besides, I don’t expect Joseph would 
feel easy. It’s not likely to rain and we’re 
accustomed to sleeping out.” 

Thus it was agreed to spend the night under 
the trees by the river and, supper over, the 
three stretched themselves upon rude couches 
of dry grass and, tired out with their day’s ex- 
ertions, were soon sound asleep. 


CHAPTER XVII 


Frank was aroused by being jerked rudely 
to his feet, and awoke to full consciousness to 
find himself in the grasp of powerful arms. 
Madly he strove to wrench himself free; with 
all his strength he struggled, and kicked and, 
realising something terrible had happened, he 
screamed aloud to warn his comrades. 

But all to no avail. He was held as in a 
grip of steel; rapidly he was bound, and his 
cries were stifled by something drawn across 
his mouth. 

And then, finding his struggles hopeless; 
gagged, bound, terrified and helpless, he looked 
wildly about. His first thought was that the 
awful two-fingered men had captured him; 
then a dreadful unreasoning fear swept over 
him as he remembered the mysterious people 
who had Jeft signs of their visit in the ruined 
city. He could distinguish nothing. It was 

pitch dark, but he knew he was still in the open 
257 


258 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


air and he could hear stealthy movements all 
about, and ever and anon, he caught the sound 
of low-spoken words in a strange tongue. Then 
a light sputtered, a torch flared and by its 
glare he saw a knot of dusky figures and among 
them Mr. Andrews and Joseph, bound and 
gagged like himself, and the next instant some 
covering was thrown over his head, blindfold- 
ing him. Desperate as was his plight, he felt 
relieved, for now he knew his captors were 
not the monstrous black creatures he had 
dreaded. His one brief glance had proved that, 
for the figures he had seen were not gigan- 
tic, misshapen or black, but were undersized, 
and light brown, and while unrecognisable in 
the uncertain light of the torch, and hideous 
with paint, yet he was positive they were In- 
dians. 

But who were they? Frank knew that the 
red men of Guiana were peaceable; that they 
had never attacked or injured white men, and 
the only explanation of the midnight attack 
which occurred to him was that they were Acu- 
rias, who had followed the fugitives from the 
distant village. All these thoughts passed 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


259 


through his mind like a flash and then he felt 
himself urged forward. Some one walked 
ahead, leading him by a short rope, and anoth- 
er stalked close behind, but they were not 
rough, not brutal, and, as Frank stumbled 
blindly along, the fellow in the rear aided him 
constantly, holding aside boughs and brambles 
and uttering short, guttural exclamations which 
Frank soon knew were intended as warnings 
of obstacles in his path. This seemed strange 
to Frank, for, if the Indians intended to kill or 
injure him — if, as he thought, they were 
avengers from the Acuria village — why should 
they use care that he was not tripped, that he 
did not fall, that he was not torn or harmed 
by thorns? Rather, would they take pleasure 
in seeing him suffer, or more likely kill or 
maim him. They were certainly not behaving 
like Kenaimas and, finding it all a mystery 
and a puzzle, he wondered if he and his com- 
rades were being taken to some distant spot 
to be tortured. Then his captors halted and 
Frank felt himself lifted in strong arms; there 
was a splash and swirl of water, he was carried 
for a short distance and was dumped uncere- 


260 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


moniously into a boat. The craft tipped and 
swayed, there was the sound of low voices, the 
rattle of paddles, and then, by the steady swish 
of water and the indescribable sense of move- 
ment, Frank knew the boat was under way. 
He wondered if his comrades were there too 
— he would have given anything to know — but 
he could not speak, he could not see, and he 
dared not move for fear of capsizing the canoe. 

For many hours the canoe moved steadily and 
swiftly. Several times the rushing sound of 
water, the leaping motions of the canoe and the 
excited voices of his captors, told Frank they 
were shooting rapids. Sometimes branches 
swept across the craft and showered drops of 
dew upon him, and, once or twice, he felt the 
bottom of the craft grate on rocks and, by the 
sounds and splashing, knew the Indians had 
leaped out and were lifting and hauling their 
boat into clear water. At last, by the light that 
filtered through the covering over his eyes, 
Frank knew that day had come and he won- 
dered if his captors would let him starve or 
die of thirst, or whether they would ever stop. 
His throat was parched and dry from the tor- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


261 


turing gag, every breath was an effort, he 
was cramped and aching in every limb and he 
began to wish that the Indians would kill him 
and be done with it. 

Then he felt the canoe run ashore, once more 
he was lifted and carried a short distance; he 
was placed upon the ground and, without 
warning, the covering was jerked from his 
head and the gag was taken from his mouth. 

Frank gave a gulp, drew one long, blessed 
breath ; blinked his eyes and stared about. On 
every side was impenetrable jungle and near 
him squatted two naked, painted Indians, but 
not another human being was in sight. 

What had become of his companions ? Where 
was he? Who were these silent savages? He 
opened his mouth to speak, but instantly one 
of the Bucks made a warning gesture and held 
up the gag suggestively, and the words died 
on Frank’s lips. Now one of the men ap- 
proached with a calabash of water and held 
it to Frank’s thirsty mouth, and the other 
placed cassava cakes, a roasted plantain and a 
buccaned powi before him, while his fellow loos- 
ened the bush rope that bound one of the cap- 


262 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


tive’s hands. Frank helped himself to the food 
eagerly, for he was terribly hungry, and, as he 
ate, he racked his brain for some solution to this 
strange abduction and for some scheme to es- 
cape. But he knew any attempt to free him- 
self was useless, for the two Indians were mus- 
cled like trained athletes, each carried a 
blowgun and poisoned arrows, and each held 
a heavy club in readiness, as they stood over 
him. And to solve the mystery of their strange 
behaviour was as difficult as to form a plan 
to gain his freedom. Frank gave up both in 
despair and resigned himself to what fate 
might have in store for him. 

No sooner had he finished his meal and 
taken his fill of water, than he was again bound 
and the covering drawn over his head, but this 
time, to Frank’s intense joy, the gag was not 
replaced, although his captors made it plainly 
understood that any outcry or sound would 
result in the agonising thing being brought into 
use. 

For hour after hour they kept on. Some- 
times the sun beat down upon them with ter- 
rific heat; for long periods they were in semi- 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


263 


darkness while the cool, damp air told of pass- 
ing through dense jungles. Again and again 
they ran rapids and three times Frank was 
led along rough paths, where, by the roaring 
of water, he knew they were passing cataracts 
while the canoe was being portaged. Several 
times the canoe stopped and water was placed 
at the prisoner’s lips and, towards midday, the 
canoe was run upon a bank, Frank was carried 
ashore and lunch was served in the midst of 
the forest, under the same conditions as break- 
fast, and, late in the afternoon, dinner was 
eaten in the same way. 

Night fell and still they kept in motion. 
Frank wondered if the Indians never rested, 
if they never slept, and, tired and lulled by the 
gentle motion of the craft and the constant 
ripple of the water alongside, he fell asleep. He 
awoke cramped and numb and realised the 
canoe was at rest. Soon he was carried ashore, 
placed in a hammock and his bonds loosened. 
Gratefully he stretched himself, rubbed his 
wrists and ankles and luxuriated in the freedom 
from his fetters. But it was hopeless to dream 
of escape. The ever- watchful Indians squatted 


264 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


beside him and he realised that even if, by a 
sudden dash, he evaded them, he would be hope- 
lessly lost in the forest. So far no harm had 
befallen him, he was beginning to think that, 
after all, he was in no danger of torture or 
death and, too tired and sleepy even to worry, 
he closed his eyes and was soon slumbering 
peacefully. 

It was broad daylight when he was aroused 
by one of his guardians and, after a light break- 
fast, he was again blindfolded and carried to 
the canoe. Greatly to his relief his hands were 
left unbound, but his captors evidently in- 
tended he should not remove the covering over 
his head and tied it firmly about his neck. 

The day passed much as that preceding and 
again night fell and found them still rushing 
down stream for, by the fact that they ran 
the rapids instead of pulling the boat through, 
Frank knew that they were descending the 
river and he wondered if the stream would 
never come to an end. They had been travel- 
ling almost ceaselessly for nearly forty-eight 
hours, and Frank realised that they must have 
covered fully two hundred miles. Where were 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


265 


they? Where were they taking him? If they 
were headed towards the coast they must be 
nearly there; if not, how could they always 
travel with the current? It was another puzzle 
and absolutely beyond him. 

Again night fell; again Frank slept and 
again he was awakened as he was lifted from 
the canoe. This time he was not laid in a 
hammock as before, he was not set upon the 
ground, but instead he was placed in another 
canoe. Then the covering was unfastened from 
his neck, it was jerked from his head and Frank 
glanced about. 

For a space he could distinguish nothing, 
but as his eyes became accustomed to the dark- 
ness he saw two figures seated before him 
in the canoe. He looked at them half -curious- 
ly, wondering why his captors had given him 
such unwonted liberty, and then he gasped, 
rubbed his eyes and peered searchingly at 
the two dark forms. Was he dreaming? 
Was he suffering from some strange hallucina- 
tion? Surely it could not be, and yet — it must 
be, it must — yes, there was no question; the 


266 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


two other occupants of the craft were Mr. An- 
drews and Joseph! 

And as the truth dawned upon him he gave 
a glad cry of joy, all unmindful of what swift 
punishment might follow. Instantly the nearest 
figure swung about. 

“Frank !” came in surprised tones from the 
darkness ; “thank God you’re here.” 

“Wah-la!” exclaimed the other shadowy 
form; “me tellum plenty Piai.” 

“Oh, Mr. Andrews! Oh, Joseph!” cried the 
delighted, wonderstruck boy; “I can’t believe 
it’s really you. Where are we? Where are the 
Indians? What’s happened?” As he spoke 
Frank started to scramble forward to his com- 
rades. 

“Hold fast, lad!” warned Mr. Andrews, as 
the canoe swayed and tipped; “don’t capsize 
us. We’re adrift in a canoe Heaven knows 
where. Hello! here’s the shore.” 

At that instant the canoe grated on a bank, 
Mr. Andrews seized an overhanging limb and 
a moment later the three were on dry land; 
alone and free and, as Frank put it, “acting 
like a bunch of kids.” 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


267 


Before them lay the dark, mysterious water, 
above and behind them rose the black forest. 
They knew not where they were, they were 
without shelter or fire, but they gave no heed 
to their plight, — it was enough that they were 
again together, safe, alive and unharmed. 
Seated there upon the narrow strip of muddy 
bank between the forest and the river, they 
waited for day to dawn and told of what had 
occurred since they had been made prisoners 
at the lost city of Manoa. 

But the tale of each was much the same and 
all had gone through experiences almost iden- 
tical. Mr. Andrews and Joseph had never seen 
one another since their capture until they found 
themselves in the canoe, and Frank and Mr. 
Andrews had to laugh, as each described how 
he had thought the figure before him one of 
the Indians until Frank had spoken, while 
Joseph, in the bow of the canoe, had taken it 
for granted that his captors were still behind 
him and had not turned to look back. 

“But who were those Indians?” exclaimed 
Frank; “ why did they capture us and take us 


268 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


all this way and then let us go, and where have 
they gone?” 

“I’ve spent most of my time trying to solve 
the mystery,” replied Mr. Andrews. “A lot 
of theories have occurred to me but only one 
seems plausible. I believe those Bucks were 
members of the tribe, or tribes, who still wor- 
ship El Dorado. Perhaps they were near, and 
watching us all the time we were at the city, 
or perhaps they came upon us by accident 
while we slept. In either case, their one idea 
was to get us away from the place without in- 
juring us and without our knowing where we 
went. They’ve no intention of letting us find 
our way back if they can help it, and I guess 
they’ve succeeded pretty well. As near as I 
can make out they’ve been doubling on the 
route, descending first one stream and then an- 
other, paddling through creeks and itabus, and 
threading a perfect labyrinth of waterways 
ever since we left. Having reached this spot 
they evidently thought us sufficiently far away 
for safety and simply slipped off and left us 
in the darkness. It was a mighty clever trick.” 

“Then we’ll never be able to go back to the 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


269 


Golden City,” cried Frank; “and to think of 
all that treasure we missed. Why, no one will 
even believe we found it. I can scarcely be- 
lieve it wasn't all a dream myself, I wonder — 
Hurrah ! It was real.” 

As Frank had been speaking he had thrust 
his hand into his pocket and had felt the golden 
moons within. “They didn’t rob me anyway,” 
he exclaimed. “I’ve still got the gold moons in 
my pocket.” 

“Of course it was real,” said Mr. Andrews. 
“I’ll wager we will get back there some day — 
Indians or no Indians. At any rate you’ve 
the moons to prove our story. I wonder what 
became of Joseph’s gold brick.” 

“Me tellum all same catchum this time,” re- 
marked the Arekuna. “Him feller Buckman 
no likeum. Him sabby Piai, no touchum.” 

As he spoke Joseph patted his leather pouch 
significantly. 

“Well, youre fixed for life at any rate,” 
laughed Frank; “I wonder what they did with 
my gun.” 

“It’s nearly daybreak,” remarked Mr. An- 
drews; “I can see the opposite shore now. It 


270 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


will be light in a few minutes. Then we’ll see 
what our chances are for getting out of here.” 

Dawn came rapidly and, as the canoe be- 
came clearly visible Frank gave a shout. 
“There’s my gun,” he cried; “and there are 
paddles and food, too. They weren’t such a 
bad lot after all.” 

“They’re honest enough,” said Mr. An- 
drews. “We’ll not starve at any rate and with 
the good canoe and paddles they left us we’ll 
eventually get somewhere. I’d like to know 
where we are. I haven’t the remotest idea.” 

It was now quite light and the three looked 
curiously about their surroundings. That they 
were on a small creek or itabu was evident, for 
it was scarcely a dozen yards from the spot 
where they stood to the opposite bank and the 
jungle met in an archway overhead. There 
was no visible current, but stray leaves and 
twigs, upon the surface of the water, moved 
slowly to the right. 

“The current runs that way — to the west,” 
announced Mr. Andrews, after watching the 
drifting objects for a time; “but we might as 


THE GOLDEN CITY 271 

well have something to eat before starting 
out.” 

In the canoe were cassava cakes, roasted and 
boiled yams and some buccaned meat and a 
good breakfast was made. As they approached 
the canoe Frank stopped and stared at the 
creek. 

“That’s mighty queer,” he exclaimed; “a few 
minutes ago everything was floating to the 
west. Now there’s a stick floating east.” 

Joseph uttered a shout. “Tide he wash,” he 
cried. 

“He’s right,” exclaimed Mr. Andrews. “By 
Jove! We’re within reach of tidewater. Frank, 
my boy, we’re below all the rapids and not a 
hundred miles from the sea.” 

Filled with exultation the three piled into the 
canoe and, plying their paddles with all their 
might, drove the craft skimming down the 
creek towards the west. 

Dodging around tacubas, crouching low as 
they swept beneath fallen trees, ploughing 
through backwaters thick with lilies, they sped 
on. The narrow jungle stream widened and 
presently a larger creek was seen ahead. Into 


272 


THE GOLDEN CITY 


this they paddled, but now the tide was flowing 
swiftly and against the strong current they 
could force their craft but slowly. The creek 
turned and twisted, gradually it broadened; 
mucka-muckas and mangroves grew along the 
shores and then — as they rounded a bend, the 
gleam of open water was before them. 

A moment more and the creek was left be- 
hind and they floated upon the bosom of a large 
river. 

And at the sight which greeted them a great 
shout rose from three throats. Across the 
river — scarce half a mile distant — was a little 
town! 

A tiny locomotive puffed and snorted as it 
hauled a train along the bank and at the dock 
lay a river steamer. 

“Wismar, by Jove!” yelled Mr. Andrews. 
“Come on, boys, we’re in time for the steamer.” 

The three paddles churned the water into 
foam as, like a living thing, the canoe sprang 
forward. 

“Hurrah!” shouted Frank; “we’ll be in 
Georgetown this afternoon.” 


THE END 





























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